Tomorrow Is Another Day
by LyricalKris
Summary: In the post Civil War South, there are consequences for a Northern man who falls for a Southern Belle. A story of a friendship ripped apart by war, and rebuilding your life after near total devastation.
1. Prologue: World of Hurt

**A/N: I gave this prologue and the first chapter to the LLS compilation. I'm posting about six hours early. Twilly said I could blame her, so there you have it.**

**Just so we are clear on this - this is an AH story. No vamp Jasper. Promise.**

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><p>When he was a little boy and, as little boys were prone to do, got into mischief, his father's threat was always the same. "Edward Anthony Cullen, you're going to be in a world of hurt."<p>

It was a mostly empty threat, as Carlisle Cullen had never so much as raised a hand to any of his children. So Edward hadn't understood what a 'world of hurt' was until that very moment.

And oh, holy God, he knew the meaning of those words. He knew nothing besides the incredible pain.

In school he learned the Greek myths, including how the goddess Athena was born fully formed from Zeus's head. That was the only thing he could think to explain his headache – that there was a full grown woman with a hammer banging, banging, banging to get out.

The only thing that could distract him from his brain trying to throb its way out of his skull was the shooting, stabbing agony along his side. He was only vaguely aware that his body was being propelled forward – dragged perhaps as every once in a while there was a bump that, though he wouldn't have thought it possible, doubled the throbbing in his head and dug the knife deeper into his side.

"Come on, mister. Just stay with me. We're almost there."

His befuddled mind wrapped around that voice, trying to comprehend what was happening. It was a woman's voice. For a moment he thought it might be an angel, leading him to a place without pain. But, replaying her words in his head, Edward could hear the strain in her tone. She was worried. Very worried.

Forcing himself to concentrate was difficult as the agony in his side increased at the same pace as his awareness. Though Edward was typically pleased when he found an indicator of self improvement, he was quite certain that he could have lived his life without pushing his threshold for pain to its limit and been quite satisfied. Edward gritted his teeth, realizing he was skirting the edge of consciousness. Some primitive survival instinct told him that if he let go – and part of him desperately wanted to – he wouldn't ever wake up.

"Bella!" a faraway voice called.

"Jasper," the voice – Bella – sounded relieved. "Thank God. You have to help me."

"What in the name of God is this?" The second voice – Jasper – sounded aghast.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, what's it look like?" Bella asked, her voice impatient.

"It looks like you've gone and lost your mind, that's what," Jasper retorted.

Bella made an exasperated growling noise. "We've got to get him inside."

"Bella, that is a Yankee." Jasper said the word like he'd just found a spider in his food and had to spit it out quickly. "The world will be a better place with him out of it."

Edward's muddled brain took great offense and he wished he could defend himself. He was, however, fighting a greater battle. He figured surviving would probably be the best way to show up this Southern 'gentleman' anyhow.

"This Yankee saved my life, Jasper." Bella's voice was hard. Despite his distraction, Edward got the impression she was no wilting Southern belle. "The war is over. I don't give a lick what you think of the Yankees, you're either going to help me get him in the house or you're going to get out of my way. He didn't survive the war just to die for me. Now, move."

"Ah, hell," Jasper muttered, and the next second Edward felt his body being hauled upward with a little more force than he would have wanted. If Edward could think beyond the pain, he would have been indignant at the idea of being carried by another man, let alone a Southern one. But as it was, as Jasper began to walk quickly, the bounce of his step sent fresh waves of agony through Edward's body, and his pride was a secondary concern to holding on to his consciousness.

"Thank you," Bella's voice said from off to the side, a little breathless as she was walking fast to keep up. "Take him to the kitchen table and then go get Doc Berty."

_Get__my__father_, he wanted to tell them. His father was a doctor and he would make it better. Carlisle would know how to help him.

But then he remembered, his father had been dead for over a year. He hadn't lived to see the end of the war he hated.

"You're going to be fine, soldier. Don't you worry," Bella said.

He wanted to believe her.

_**~0~**_

The world became a nonsensical place for a time. There were bright lights and urgent voices. Edward was introduced to the entire spectrum of pain – sharp, blunt, stabbing, throbbing, total – as he writhed on the makeshift operating table.

The one thing, the one good thing, that Edward remembered was the voice. Bella. He imagined that the gentle hand he sometimes felt – stroking his sweat slicked hair or pressing a cool cloth to his forehead – was hers.

"You hang on now. You're going to be just fine."

Finally all the pushing and pulling was done. "Let him rest. I left something for the pain. There's nothing more we can do. He's in God's hands now," said a voice that Edward had come to associate with the doctor.

"Thank you, Doc," Bella said.

The doctor grunted. "You know I only did it because I owed a favor to your daddy. I wouldn't have done it for anyone else. As far as I'm concerned, every one of the damn Yankees can burn in hell. Pardon my language. And you. You make sure you don't leave her alone with this man in the house."

"I'd sooner die," Jasper vowed.

"Thank you, Doc," Bella said again, her voice harder.

Edward heard footsteps and then the sound of water splashing in a basin. "Gracious, you're a mess, aren't you?" Bella said softly though he couldn't answer. He felt a cloth against his cheek and water rolling down his neck. It felt good – streaks of cool across his heated skin.

She worked, her voice soothing and soft as she spoke to him. She told him to sleep if he could, but only if he was going to remember to wake up.

Then her hand paused.

"Oh my word…Jasper!" she cried, her sudden frantic tone startling Edward. His heart began to pound.

"What, what is it?" Jasper's voice was hard and urgent. It was a tone Edward had heard so often during the war - the tone of someone looking to the horizon, expecting trouble.

"We know him." Bella's voice was awed. "We know this man."

Heavy footsteps approached and then he heard Jasper gasp. "I'll be damned… Edward Cullen."

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><p><strong>AN: Thanks to my team! **

**So... thoughts?**


	2. When We Were Young

It was the summer of 1860. Abraham Lincoln had not yet been elected president, but the popular opinion was that he would win the election. When that happened, seven states would secede from the Union in the three months afterward, setting in motion a war that would tear families, friends, and the nation itself, apart.

But though those threats lingered in the foreseeable future, Edward Cullen had spent the first year at West Point hearing of his friend Jasper Whitlock's home on a cotton plantation in Texas. When Jasper invited him to stay for the first few weeks of summer, despite being a Northerner - Chicago born and bred - Edward hadn't hesitated.

The South was definitely a whole other world. Edward was used to the hustle and bustle of the city where even he - the son of a well to do doctor who lived on a large lot - could look out the window and see three to four of his neighbors' homes. The buggy ride from the train station in Houston to Jasper's family's plantation took them through the countryside. Signs indicating what property belonged to whom were sometimes spaced half an hour apart. It was several miles of tree lined road leading up from the entrance of the Whitlock plantation to the front door of the house. And that was just the beginning.

The boys had been home for only a couple days when Edward got to experience his first Southern party. Continuing his internal comparison, Edward entertained himself by noting the difference between this party and his mother's society parties back home. He found a quiet perch at the top of the staircase where he could sit, mostly unnoticed, and watch the guests stream in.

Jasper had been informed in no uncertain terms that he was expected to be a dutiful host. Edward watched, highly amused at how many of the young ladies that came through door simpered at Jasper, batting their eyelashes. Ever the charmer, his friend would flash them a wide grin, nodding and chatting politely with his hands clasped behind his back. Edward smirked, noting how the girls' eyes often drank in his friend's tall form and the way he looked in his Westpoint uniform.

After about half an hour, a woman - a girl, really - bounded in the door at a pace that didn't even resemble ladylike. Her hat came flying off her head releasing a gorgeous tumble of mahogany waves down her back. Edward was startled and amused as he watched the girl throw her arms around Jasper. His friend seemed surprised as well but hugged her back, twirling her a little while other ladies look on with scandalized expressions. Edward wondered if this was Maria - a girl who'd come up many times in conversation over the last year and who he was nearly positive Jasper was sweet on.

But no. Jasper's voice wafted up to him with another name.

Bella.

Before he even knew he was moving, Edward had stood from his comfortable chair and leaned on the banister. Bella turned slightly, and Edward was inexplicably struck by her happy grin. She said a few words to Jasper, and Edward couldn't seem to keep his eyes off her.

As she turned to move further off into the party, she suddenly stopped. She spun, her eyes cast upward as if she knew he was watching. Though he knew his mother would have had his head for being so rude, Edward couldn't stop staring even after he was caught. It was just that her eyes - toffee brown and full of life - captured him. His lips pulled upward into a full smile as their stare lingered for many moments longer than was proper.

At first, her grin faltered, but after a moment of what looked like uncertainty and before Edward could tear his gaze away, Bella looked back up at him from under long eyelashes and she smiled back.

~0~

"Sorry," Jasper said early in the afternoon when he finally found a moment to spend with Edward. "It seems a host's duties are never done."

"My mother says much the same," Edward allowed amiably. "You know me. I don't need to be entertained."

Jasper relaxed, sitting back on the step and dusting a speck of dirt off his otherwise immaculate pant leg. Surveying the party like he was an artist picking out imperfections, Jasper laughed suddenly.

"What is it?" Edward asked, perplexed because he saw nothing out of the ordinary. He thought perhaps someone had become a tad too drunk for polite society, but as he looked out at the gathered guests, he didn't see anyone making an ass of themselves.

"It's Bella," his friend answered.

Instantly, Edward sat up a little straighter. Of course, he knew where Bella was standing. Despite his best efforts, his eyes had strayed to her more than once throughout the party. In fact, before Jasper came up, he'd been trying to figure by sight alone if the blond-haired boy who kept pestering Bella - his eyes so wide and ridiculous - was courting her. She seemed young to be betrothed but it wasn't unheard of.

Though why that idea bothered him, he couldn't say.

"Bella?" Edward said questioningly, hoping his voice was as unconcerned as he should have been.

"Isabella Swan," Jasper corrected himself. "We grew up together. Well. I was ten when she came here, which would have made her eight. She's from somewhere in the West, but her father brought her here when her mother died."

"And you find her amusing?" Edward pressed, a flicker of irrational irritation making his blood warm in his veins.

Jasper chuckled. "I find Bella highly amusing, yes." He nodded in her direction, where the blond boy was still clamoring for her attention. "That there is Michael Newton. He's been sweet on her, lord since we were kids. Bella gets impatient about him." He shook his head. "There's nothing about Michael that could handle a gal like Bella. Between you and I."

"Hmm," Edward murmured, still feigning disinterest. "Could you? Handle her, I mean?" The words sounded coarse - too coarse to apply to such a girl, but the boys were used to talking frankly around each other. He didn't want Jasper to pick up on his distraction. The other boy was far too perceptive at times.

"You're asking if I'm interested?" Jasper asked, arcing and eyebrow. He laughed. "In Bella? My father'd be fit to be tied if I expressed an interest in courting her. 'Not a good match, not for you,'" he imitated his father. He grinned - the smile much more that of the boy he was rather than the gracious host. "I'd be surprised if her daddy was able to find a husband for her at all, to be honest."

"Why?" Edward couldn't help but ask. His heart gave an odd twist. For a girl to not be marriageable was, to him, no laughing matter. The idea of that devastation applying to Bella seemed abhorrent.

"She's plenty pretty," Jasper said easily. "So perhaps on that merit, Charles will be able to find her a suitor. But she isn't what you would call biddable. Hard headed and hot headed, that one. She has an Irish nanny who calls her Katie-Bella because she's as stubborn as a red-headed Irish girl, or so she says."

Edward had the strangest urge to knock his friend from the step like they were children. Instead he folded his hands carefully on his lap and changed the subject. "So if not Bella, who would be a match for you?"

That caught Jasper off guard. His face flushed slightly, something Edward was certain had little to do with the heat, and rubbed his hands fitfully against the side of his pants. Seeing his friend's typically blase exterior crumple at the mere thought of a match chased away Edward's irritation. He grinned roguishly, elbowing Jasper lightly in the side. "There is someone, isn't there?"

Rolling his eyes, Jasper nodded his head in the direction of a young girl of obvious Spanish origin dancing with an older man who was likely her father. Her smile was beatific, her long black hair held at bay by a wide, pretty hat. She was a beauty - that could not be mistaken.

"That is Benito Salazar and his daughter, Maria." He spoke the girl's name, as always, with the reverence of a young man with a fascination.

"Do you ever think about marriage, Edward?" Jasper asked, his voice a little far away.

"Marriage?" Edward repeated, the word sounding as most of life had since he was a little boy - very far away. "My father always taught me that marriage came in due time - perhaps by my mid twenties." He smirked. "Then again, he married my mother when they were 16 so what, I ask you, kind of role model is he?"

Jasper laughed. "And my father, who encourages a young marriage, didn't marry until he was nearly 40."

"So it goes," Edward said, amused. When his eyes wandered, inevitably, back to Bella, he wondered if he had been remiss in not considering the merits of marriage sooner.

_**~0~**_

In the later afternoon, when the women had gone to nap and the men had gathered to talk, Edward quietly sneaked out of the grand plantation house. In the back of his head, he could hear his mother chastising him for his poor manners, but he was quite sure that getting into a shouting match with his host's guests was quite a bit worse than leaving a party without paying his proper respects.

Edward knew from experience that the conversation would inevitably turn to politics. Most of the South was hot around the collar and talk of secession was rampant. While the other guests had been perfectly polite to that point, Edward ventured a guess that their tone would get quite a bit more heated in a political discussion and he would be the only Northerner in a room full of Southern gentlemen. Edward wasn't known for holding his temper under the best circumstances, and his mother had taught him it was better to be a little rude and take a walk than it was to start a fist fight with his host.

Well, she had implied anyway.

Keeping his gait casual, Edward headed for the trees as if he were just taking a leisurely stroll now that the worst of Texas's heat was past. He breathed a little easier once he was out of line of sight.

As he walked, Edward loosened the buttons of his shirt, fanning it out to cool his overheated skin. He thought he heard the sound of a tripping brook nearby and headed in that direction, eager to splash cold water on his face.

His thoughts as he walked were distant, wondering if the south did secede, would there be a war. It was likely. His father was worried about it. When Emmett and Edward has expressed excitement over the possibility of battle, he'd stood silently and left the table.

The day would come when Edward would understand his father's quiet disgust over their bloodthirsty attitude and the very real worry that his sons would fight. Carlisle Cullen had known war and knew what it could do to the body and mind. Of course, that was supposing the boys would come back from battle at all. Many men did not. If they did, there was also a high probability they would not come back whole.

But that day, as he walked further into the wooded area that surrounded Jasper's house, Edward imagined only the glory of battle. Not so far away from the days he played with toy guns and soldiers, Edward pretended he was already in the midst of the war. It didn't feel as much like imagination as it had before, with a year of formal training behind him and the threat of real war looming. He stepped softly, his eyes ever alert and his hand on the pistol he carried at his waist. He drew it several times, glancing around trees to catch his 'enemy' unawares.

He climbed stealthily to the top of a small outcropping of rocks and scanned the valley. Sure that he was in the clear, Edward jumped down to the ground.

A startled, feminine scream caught him by surprise, and as he spun, he lost his balance, falling backward on his ass. With his heart pounding, Edward looked up, finding himself staring into wide, beautiful eyes. Her hair fell loose around her shoulders, wavy from being styled all day. Her hands were pressed to her mouth, likely keeping in another scream.

She was covered only by her underclothing, her dress lying draped across a branch nearby. It seemed she was merely trying to escape the relentless heat, like he was, but Edward didn't give himself more time to consider the notion before he stood and quickly turned around. "I apologize," he said instantly, trying not to think about the fact that he'd glimpsed pieces of the girl he'd been eying all day that only her future husband should get to see.

Though, in her chemise and slip, she was very well covered. Still. It was inappropriate.

He heard rustling behind him and the girl huffed. "What were you getting at, jumping off the rocks like a mountain lion?" she asked, her voice highly irritated.

Edward bristled, slightly embarrassed that he'd been caught playing soldier. "I didn't expect anyone to be out here," he said.

"Sakes alive. I was just trying to cool off away from those other ninnies, and here you come like a peeping Tom-"

"A what?" Edward protested with an incredulous laugh. "Miss, I assure you that I had no intention of coming across you. I was just taking a walk."

She chuffed. "Walking makes noise. You were sneaking around, is what you were doing."

It bothered Edward that he couldn't deny her allegation. As his surprise subsided, it also bothered him to no end that she was outside alone at all. "You shouldn't be out here without an escort!"

**~May, 1865~ **

"... and what you were doing out there without an escort, I have no idea," Jasper's voice became clearer as the dream-memory faded away, taking the past with it.

Trying to latch on to something besides the pain, Edward concentrated on the heated discussion happening somewhere in the same room. He heard a woman's exasperated sigh. "We have been over and over this point; it's not going to change the past. I know I shouldn't have tried to go to town yesterday, but I can't wait for you for every thing I need."

Edward's hazy thoughts solidified then, and he remembered how he came to be injured. The war had ended only scant weeks before. Confederate soldiers returned home to find themselves penniless. Naturally, desperation led to desperate acts. Much of the South was in a general state of lawlessness. The chaos was a breeding ground for for the worst of humanity.

It was no surprise then that he'd happened across three men pushing a young woman between them. She was putting up a valiant struggle, but it was clear that she would lose.

Could it really be the girl - Bella - from his memories? Is that what the dream was trying to remind him of?

More importantly, had she sustained any injuries?

Edward forced himself to drag his eyes open, wincing against even the low light of approaching evening. The simple act nearly robbed him of what little energy he possessed, and he had to rest before he could consider moving his head.

"Bella," Jasper began, "you could have-"

"For heaven's sake, hush. You're scaring your son," Bella admonished. "Everything's fine, precious," she said, her voice soft as one spoke to a child.

"I swore to my son that he'd never have to see a Yankee in my house again," Jasper said vehemently, though his tone was considerably softer.

"Well, this is not your house. It's mine, so you may keep your promise," she retorted, a note of finality in her tone.

Finally, Edward was able to focus. The blurs he saw moving about the room became people. Familiar people.

It was Bella he saw first and, despite the incredible pain he was in, he was unbearably happy to see her. She was much changed from the child she'd been before the war began, but the same was true of everyone, it seemed. She wore her long brown hair in a braid coiled at the back of her head - a no nonsense do designed to keep it out of her way as she worked. She held a blond haired, blue eyed boy, perhaps two or more, against her side as she glared across the bed at someone - presumably Jasper.

The child spotted him first. His teary eyes were curious and a little wary. He ducked his head against Bella's breast and pointed a finger, calling attention to the fact the conversation was being overheard.

Bella followed the little boy's silent tattle, her eyes meeting his. Edward looked her over carefully, trying to see if her skin was marred in any way.

She was perfect - completely unharmed that he could see. He hadn't been sure. The scuffle happened so quickly, all he really remembered was pulling her from their hands as he called for them to stop immediately.

As she looked down on him, a relieved, gentle smile spread across her face. "There you are, Mr. Cullen. Rest easy. You're safe and we...I am taking care of you," she said softly. Looking across the room, she handed the child across the bed. "Jasper, take Peter so I can tend to our friend."

"He's no friend of mine," Jasper snarled, but he took the little boy from her arms.

Bella frowned. "He was-"

"He's not my friend. Not anymore," Jasper repeated firmly.

Edward rolled his head, finding his former friend and roommate in the doorway with a dangerous glower on his face. Like Bella, Jasper was also changed. His face was thinner though his body was unmistakably more muscular. His blond hair was longer and obviously heavy with sweat. Every inch of his visible skin seemed to covered in dirt. He'd been working in the fields, Edward was more than sure of it.

Most heartbreaking of all, Edward could see that the war had not been kind to Jasper. There was a long, old scar across his cheek and a smaller one over his eyebrow. Another scar on his arm disappeared under his shirt. There was no telling what other injuries he might have suffered.

Part of Edward wanted to apologize - both because he'd survived the war with none but minor scars and because, though he was sure he had not been the one that injured Jasper, more than one Confederate soldier bore the mark of his blade.

Then again, Confederate hands had killed his father, and that thought brought an all too familiar scowl to his lips.

"If that's what pleases you," she said brusquely. "Just take Peter out of here. I need to check Mr. Cullen's wound."

"I'm not going to leave you alone with-"

"For heaven's sake!" Bella exclaimed, cutting him off. "What is it you think - that he saved me from those men just so he could have me himself right there on the side of the road?"

Jasper winced and Edward would have as well if he wasn't so surprised. He'd never heard a woman speak as such.

"Even if he wanted to, the poor man's as weak as a newborn kitten." Edward frowned at this but didn't have the strength to protest. "If he tries to attack me, I'm fair certain I can fight him off."

"Great balls of fire, you are the most stubborn woman I have ever met, you know that?" Jasper seethed, throwing his free hand up in the air. "Have it your own way, but I'll be right outside." He pointed a finger at Edward, his glare deadly. "You watch yourself," he warned before striding quickly out of the room.

Letting out a long breath like steam beginning to hiss out of a tea kettle, Bella stood over him with her hands on her hips. She closed her eyes briefly and when she opened them again, her expression was gentle. "It's good to see you awake." She breathed deep. "It was touch and go for a while there."

Edward nodded slightly and swallowed hard, trying to find his voice. "He's right, you know," he finally rasped. "We should not be alone. It's not proper."

Bella groaned and shook her head, quickly and efficiently pulling up the shirt he wore. "I know a man and a woman being alone in a bedroom together is scandalous," she said, sounding amused. "But really - is this so different than if you were in a hospital right now? I worked as a nurse during the war and tended to many patients much worse off than you." Her mouth tightened into a thin line with the memory. It looked like it took some effort, but she relaxed again. "Besides, as I told Jasper, you can hardly move. The most you'll accomplish is bleeding on me."

"I'm a menace," Edward grumbled petulantly, breathing hard with the exertion of helping her unwind the bandages wrapped around his midsection.

She patted him lightly on the shoulder. "Why, you're quite fierce, of course," she assured him like a mother might soothe a scowling child.

Bella worked in silence for a few minutes after that, applying something that stung like the dickens to his wound. Edward gritted his teeth, determined not to swear in front of a lady. Bella clucked in sympathy. "I'm so very sorry."

"For what?" Edward whispered, confused and so tired.

"I was losing that fight," she said quietly. "You saved my life...and God knows what else." She sighed. "Here, lift your head a little, and I'll give you something for the pain."

She propped one hand against the back of his head. Despite the agony in his body, Edward felt an odd thrill at the feel of her fingers against his hair. It was one small comfort, at least. He tilted his head up as much as he was able, dutifully sipping at the spoon she held to his lips. He didn't recognize what he was being fed – opium, perhaps – but he trusted her implicitly.

When the medicine was gone, Edward lay back again, utterly exhausted. "Try to rest. Sleep is nature's best healing tool," she said, tucking the blankets back around him.

Edward's eyelids were drooping, and it was hard to concentrate long enough to form a sentence. He wanted to ask if she remembered him, if he was losing his mind by thinking they'd known each other once upon a forever ago. He wanted to know what happened that she had wandered away without Jasper. Was Jasper her husband? Was Peter their little boy?

Less importantly, did his commanding officer know where he was?

And what had happened to the men who were attacking her?

Of all the questions and thoughts shooting around his mind like snowflakes in a flurry, only one made it passed his lips. "Did you really drag me here?"

"There wasn't much of a choice," she said. "You're a bit more solid than I can carry on my own, and I couldn't leave you to die."

Remembering Jasper and the Doctor's words, Edward's lips twitched. "You'd probably save yourself a world of trouble by letting me die."

"I could say the same for you," Bella pointed out. She smiled at him, a hint of sadness in her eyes. "My father always told me I should be more obedient. I suppose he was right. If I did what I was told, I wouldn't have been out there alone today. Then neither of us would have stared death in the eye."

Guilt made her tone heavy and Edward wanted nothing more than to comfort her. As it was, his eyelids were too heavy. He only barely mumbled, "Thank you for saving me," before he slipped back into a deep sleep.

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><p><strong>AN: Thanks to all of you for your response so far. I'm thrilled. I'm so excited to continue this story finally. Thanks to my girls. You know who you are.**


	3. Jasper's Story

_**~1860~**_

Edward's parents had taught their children to be unfailingly polite. His sister, Alice, was taught to be a lady. The boys, Edward and Emmett, were taught to be gentleman, holding to decorum in every situation.

However, nothing in his parents' instruction had ever told him what to do when he ran into a semi-clothed young woman without an escort in the woods. Politeness dictated that he escort her back to the plantation house, but if they were seen exciting the trees together, her reputation would be sullied. It was outrageously unfair, as he would walk away from the ordeal unscathed.

Though, if he was being honest with himself, Edward would have to acknowledge that he was thinking of the rules of propriety to avoid thinking about other things.

Such as the fact there was a somewhat unclothed girl behind him.

The same girl he'd been eying almost all day with a twist in his belly and a warmth under his skin that he couldn't explain.

And he was, after all, a 17 year old boy.

"You can turn around. I'm decent," Bella said quietly. The annoyance from just a moment before was gone from her voice.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Edward muttered under his breath. He sighed, breathing deep. "I apologize for snapping at you. I was just worried. What if it were someone else out here in these woods waiting to prey on you?"

She huffed. "There are none around for miles but neighbors and friends. Besides, I've done this before. This is the first time I've run into anyone."

At this Edward did turn, curiosity winning out over his libido. "Why would you leave the women and girls?" He offered her a small smile. "Sometimes, I wish the men would also take a nap. It would do wonders for the temperament."

Bella snorted softly. "Temperament." She shook her head slightly. "I'm afraid to dispel your fancy. There is not so much sleep as there is gossip. To tell you the truth, if my father didn't require we attend these parties to keep up a friendly face with the neighbors, I wouldn't go."

Edward had to laugh, a little incredulous. He'd never heard of a girl who didn't like a party. "You seemed to be happy enough when you arrived," he observed.

She looked at him sharply, her cheeks flushing a pleasing pink, and Edward realized he'd spoken out of turn. "I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I should not have been staring so. It was rude."

"I thought I'd imagined it," she said in a small voice. "I couldn't figure why you would be looking at me." She furrowed her eyebrows a little in confusion. "I thought perhaps we knew each other, but then I didn't recognize you."

He laughed again, this time at himself. "So my rudeness continues." He bowed slightly at her, proffering a hand. "My name is Edward Cullen of Chicago."

A slow, oddly shy smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "I know who you are, Mr. Cullen. Gossip, remember? You're Jasper's roommate." She frowned and sighed. "Oh, I'm sure it's improper to admit to such things." She looked at him furtively. "It seems I'm just meant to make a complete fool of myself in front of you."

"Not at all, Miss Swan," he said, reaching out impulsively to touch her arm.

She looked up at him, again seeming shocked. "How did you know my name?"

At this he couldn't help but grin. "See? You aren't the only one being caught at gossiping. If you are foolish, then so am I, so we're on equal footing."

Her expression was uncertain but there was a spark of amusement in her dark eyes. "I missed Jasper. That's why I was so pleased when I arrived," she murmured, looking out over the river.

Inexplicably, Edward's heart twisted, his blood heating with an odd sort of anger. "You missed Jasper," he repeated, suddenly certain his friend had lied about his intentions toward Bella.

She must have heard the sharpness in his tone for she turned back to him, looking startled. "Oh, no. We're not... I mean, I don't..." She flushed, putting the back of her hand to her cheek. "Jasper has just been my best friend since I was eight years old. I've been worried for him is all."

"Worried?" he asked, his mood swinging to gentle concern again. Why it bothered him that this girl should know any amount of distress, he couldn't figure. "West Point is very safe."

"Yes, but for how long?" she asked with a sigh.

Again he reached out, touching her arm before he even realized he was moving. His fingers against her skin seemed to soothe an unnamed ache inside of him, and Edward found himself not caring that he was, perhaps, pushing his boundaries. "Rest easy, Miss Swan," he murmured. "Jasper is already a fine soldier." His eyebrows furrowed as he stepped back, away from her. His first impulse had been to assure her that he would always look out for his friend, but though he had pushed the thought to the very back of his mind, he had to acknowledge that should the nation go to war, he and Jasper would end up on opposite sides.

_**~1865~**_

When Edward stirred again, it was to a familiar voice. His body was taut with an automatic response, wanting to snap to.

It was an automatic reaction to be on high alert in the presence of that voice, and his muddy thoughts were making him anxious. He fought to wake, listening carefully to hear what his commanding officer - Lieutenant Benjamin Cheney - was talking about. Through four years of war, Edward had never disobeyed an order. He was not about to now, no matter what condition he was in.

"Mr. Whitlock -"

"It's Major Whitlock," Jasper's voice snapped.

"Major Whitlock," Lieutenant Cheney amended. "I don't mean to worry you and your family. I simply came to find out about the whereabouts of one of my men."

"Good. You can take him with you."

"Jasper!" Bella's voice protested. "Lieutenant, Sergeant Cullen is in good hands here. He is resting well, and I don't think it's wise to move him."

"Bella..." Jasper's voice was exasperated.

"I don't wish to cause problems between you and your husband, ma'am. We can arrange to move him -"

"You needn't worry about that, and I simply don't think it's wise," Bella interrupted. "Lieutenant, I can assure you Sergeant Cullen is in good hands here. He has been seen by a doctor who is a personal friend of mine, and he is recovering."

"Bella, don't you think you have enough to do?" Jasper's voice was still angry, but his tone was gentler as he spoke. "Let the Lieutenant take over. The Sergeant belongs in a hospital. Far away from here."

There was a pause, and Edward thought he heard Bella sigh. "Far be it from me to speak ill of those I worked along side during the war, but please believe me when I say he is better off here. Lieutenant Cheney, this man saved my life. I would prefer he didn't end up with an accidentally amputated leg."

With a groan of surprise, Edward finally found the strength to open his eyes. He blinked, trying to adjust to the brightness of the room.

"Well, if I can just see him," his commanding officer said, sounding dubious.

"Oh, of course. Jasper, will you take Peter, please?"

"Unlikely," Jasper said with a scoff. "You can't convince me to leave you alone with another Union soldier. This one is not as incapacitated as the other."

Edward felt a rush of annoyance and struggled to find his voice. Lieutenant Cheney was one of the most respectable men he knew, and it was his impulse to defend the senior officer's honor.

"Jasper!" Bella warned.

"No, ma'am. He's right," Lieutenant Cheney said quickly. "In his shoes, I would not leave you alone either."

There was another moment of silence and she must have acquiesced because when she spoke again, Bella's voice was resigned. "This way, Sir."

Taking a deep breath, Edward tried to at least sit up straighter, his automatic reaction to be at attention when his commanding officer stepped in the room. As he moved though, a sharp stab of agony coursed through his side, sending him flat on his back as he groaned.

"Edward?" Bella's worried voice reached him and he heard her quick footfalls as she darted to the bed. "What's happened?"

"I'm fine," he rasped, trying desperately to keep his pain under control. "Moved too quickly, is all." His eyes rolled over to find the Lieutenant in the door. "Sir..."

"At ease, soldier," Lieutenant Cheney commanded in a firm but soft voice. "It's good to see you alive, Sergeant Cullen. When we didn't hear from you for three days, we assumed the worst."

"Three days?" Edward cried and immediately regretted it. He couldn't swallow his low moan at the pain that wracked his body when he started.

"Here, I'll get something to help you," Bella said quickly.

"No," he managed through gritted teeth. The fact that he'd somehow lost three days was bad enough. He didn't want to go back to sleep - not yet. He lay still for a moment until the worst of the pain passed and opened his eyes again.

"Don't make things more difficult on yourself, Sergeant," the Lieutenant chided. "Taking a bayonet to the side is no simple scratch."

Edward huffed. "Is that what happened?"

"How much do you remember?" Bella asked, her voice soft with concern.

"I remember everything," he assured. "It just happened too fast for me to understand what it was that wounded me."

"Well, son. I'd say you did admirably," Cheney said, smiling. "That's how I found you. There was a wounded man at the hospital raising hell about a Union soldier who'd run him through with a sword. When he was questioned, he was eventually linked to the body that was found just down the road from here with a bullet in his head." He nodded to Bella. "You may be happy to know, Ma'am. We found the third man as well. He was a Confederate deserter." As he spoke this last he glanced at Jasper with a cool expression. Jasper's eyes narrowed slightly as he leaned on the door jamb, but he said nothing.

"That is a relief," Bella admitted, readjusting Peter on her hip. Edward noticed that she hugged the boy tight against her.

"We are doing our best to restore order," Cheney said with a sigh.

Jasper scoffed, the sound bitter. "If you had let us all alone, there would no be unrest," he said harshly. "Lawlessness was minimal around these parts, and now there's chaos."

"Now is not the time for these arguments," the Lieutenant snapped. "When Texas is admitted back to the Union, things will get better, but until that time we should all do the best we can."

He turned back to Edward. "We should let you rest. I'm going to arrange for your honorable discharge from service, Sergeant."

"Sir!" Edward protested, but Cheney held up a hand to silence him.

"You've done your duty and served your country well. Now, you should concentrate on healing so you can return to your family. You've a mother and sister to get home to, do you not?"

Edward's heart twisted and for a moment he missed his family so much he could scarcely breathe. Still, duty was all he knew. "And my brother," he allowed. "But as you say, sir, there is much to be done -"

"And we will find a way to do it without your assistance, Sergeant Cullen," Cheney said firmly. "No matter. It's time you rest. That's an order."

Frowning, Edward banged his head slightly against the pillow. "Yes, Sir."

Cheney nodded, affixing the hat he'd been carrying back on top of his head. "Major Whitlock? If you'll kindly escort me out?"

Jasper's eyes flicked between Bella and Edward, his jaw going rigid. Finally, he gave a short nod and gestured to the door.

When his commanding officer had gone, Edward felt exhausted again. He looked over as Bella carefully set Peter on the floor and stepped to his bedside. "You shouldn't get yourself into trouble with your husband over me, Mrs. Whitlock," he murmured as she pressed her cool palm to his forehead, probably checking him for fever.

She started and looked down at him, surprised. "Mrs. Whitlock?" She gave a short laugh and fetched a glass from the nightstand. "Drink slowly," she directed as she slipped an arm around him, helping steady him as he drank. "Jasper and I are not married, Sergeant."

Edward said nothing as he rested back again. He didn't think it was appropriate to express his sudden happiness at her words.

"I didn't know that you recognized me. Us," she said with a small smile.

"Of course I did," he mumbled, fighting the urge to go back to sleep. "That summer... that day, sticks out in my mind quite a lot."

She looked down, concentrating on wetting a cloth with cool water, but he could see her cheeks were tinged red. Obviously, she remembered that afternoon as well.

He wondered if it was wise to remind her of his impropriety.

Before Edward could think of something to break their silence, he was distracted as a curious Peter stepped toward him, two fingers shoved into his mouth and twirling a long feather between the fingers of his other hand. He looked wary, but took another step closer and stretched his little hand out to touch Edward with the feather.

"Well, hello there," Edward said softly, smiling at the child. He had the odd urge to hold his hand out, as if the boy might sniff it like a dog to gauge his trustworthiness. He knew nothing of small children, and this one, with his deep blue eyes and unearthly silence unnerved him. "What's your name?" he asked even though he knew.

The child just blinked at him.

"He doesn't speak," Bella said softly. Her expression was sad as she put the cloth to Edward's skin, scrubbing his face with gentle motions. "He used to, but he has been silent since..."

"Since?" Edward prompted, offering the boy a finger just to see what he'd do with it.

They both watched as Peter took the fingers he'd had in his mouth and wrapped that hand around Edward's offered digit. She laughed lightly at the way Edward scrunched his nose in vague disgust. With a sigh, she bent so she was near his ear under the guise of scrubbing the back of his neck. "Since his mother died," she said lowly.

"Peter! You get away from that man," Jasper's harsh voice made them all turn. He crossed the room, a furious expression on his face, and yanked the boy into his arms. "Keep your hands off my son," he demanded, glaring at Edward.

"I wasn't -" Edward began, but Jasper cut him off.

"I don't give a good g -"

"Jasper Whitlock, you better not think about finishing that sentence in front of your child," Bella said, staring at the blond man with her hands on her hips. "Look, I understand your opinions on the matter, but I don't give a lick about them. Your Momma taught you better than to be rude to a guest, no less a guest of mine in my house. The decision to hover around here like a fly on a horse's rear end was your own. You are perfectly welcome to leave."

Upset by all the angry voices, Peter stuck his fingers in his mouth again and whimpered, clutching his father's shirt anxiously.

"You see? The Sergeant wasn't upsetting him, but you have. Honestly. Even if he wanted to, do you really think I would let anyone hurt Peter?" Bella groused, going back to her task of cleaning Edward's skin.

Edward swallowed hard, both trying to keep his temper in check and trying to fight the ever encroaching tiredness. "War or none, Jasper. You've never been my enemy."

Jasper just scoffed, bouncing his son lightly in one arm while he pointed at Edward with another. "You just keep your hands to yourself, understand? That goes for both of them," he said, his eyes landing on Bella. Without another word, he strode back out of the room, taking the boy with him.

With a groan that was both frustration and anger, Edward again sank back against his pillow. "My God..." Between fighting the fatigue and fighting the pain, he had nothing left in him to fight the tears that welled then, and they spilled over, making twin tracks on his cheeks. "He is so changed."

Bella bit her lip, her expression matching the terrible sadness he felt. She gently wiped his cheeks with the cloth, cleaning away the dirt and the two tears he'd shed, leaving only a trail of coolness against his skin. "The war changed us all, but sometimes I believe Jasper suffered much more than his fair share."

Edward bit back a retort, thinking of his father and brother. His father had been killed and Emmett so badly wounded that he'd lost most of his left arm.

It often seemed that not a single person in the nation had come away unscathed. They had all lost much, and Edward wanted to believe that were he in Jasper's place, he would never have treated the other man as if he were a bloodthirsty monster - as if he harmed the child by merely touching him.

Still, he tried to breathe through his annoyance and self-righteousness, remembering all he'd seen and experienced during the war. He had no idea what Jasper's story was. Remembering the boy he'd been - so open and charismatic - he could only surmise that whatever it was, it had warped the other man's soul.

None of them were the people they'd been four years before.

"The boy's mother, she was Jasper's wife?" he guessed aloud, distracting himself by watching the way Bella undid the buttons of his night shirt. It did wonders to calm his anger: reveling in her soft touch as she carefully down his chest and around his wounds.

Bella nodded, and Edward thought she might be blushing again, though she was diligently working through that. "Maria," she confirmed.

"Maria," Edward repeated, remembering the way Jasper had looked, watching the gorgeous Spanish girl out on the dance floor. "How did she die?"

Bella's hand faltered for a moment. She breathed deep, turning to dip the cloth back in the basin. "It was six months ago. Jasper still owned the plantation house, and Maria lived there with Peter, Jasper's mother, Miss Lucy, and what few servants were left." She paused, and Edward noticed her hands were trembling.

Without thinking, Edward reached out, putting his hand over hers. "Miss Swan... If you cannot say..."

"No," Bella shook her head. She wiped away a tear that had gathered at the corner of her eye and set about her task again. "It's difficult because I was the one who found them. I still see them when I close my eyes... all the blood..."

For a moment she looked haunted, her features pale. When she spoke again, her voice was far away. "He'd already killed Miss Lucy. She was out on the lawn with one of the servants just..sprawled and bloody and still..." She sniffled, putting a hand to her cheek as she remembered. "I don't know what I was thinking. I don't suppose I was thinking at all. I just knew that I had to... If he'd hurt the baby..."

"Bella," Edward said softly, and though he'd used her first name, Bella was too far gone into her memories to realize it.

"The other two servants were in the foyer, and I heard the baby crying. I didn't even realize I'd grabbed up a little statue, and I ran upstairs. He was... he was..." She couldn't say the words but Edward got the idea when she shuddered. "He was ... distracted... the man. And I hit him. I hit him three times right on his head."

She sat then, in the chair by his bedside and rested her trembling arms on his chest, still staring off into nothing. Heartbroken, Edward raised a hand to wipe away the tears that were falling slowly down her cheeks. She didn't break down and sob, she merely cried for a moment, until she came back to herself.

"Anyhow, when I finally managed to drag him off Maria..." She looked up, her eyes wide and filled with a terrible sadness. "I tried. I really did. But there was so much blood, and I couldn't save her," she said in a whisper.

"I'm sure you did all you could," Edward assured.

Bella breathed in deep. "The man... he wasn't dead. He was hauled off, and before they hanged him, he screamed... Well... He said she deserved it - that they all deserved it - simply because they were Southerns." She looked at him. "He was a Union soldier, Sergeant Cullen. A deserter, I'm sure, but he wore your colors nonetheless."

Edward didn't know what to say.

That there were monsters on each side was obvious - men who used a noble cause as an excuse for their loathsome ways. He'd seen it among his fellow soldiers as he'd seen it among the Confederates. It went without saying and it was entirely beside the point.

After four years of seemingly endless fighting, Edward couldn't see the Confederate gray uniform without his hackles raising and his teeth automatically setting on edge. It was an ingrained reaction because for four years, seeing those colors meant bloodshed and death was not far behind. While it was true that his family had suffered, as many families had suffered, at Confederate hands, he could not imagine losing one of his loved ones that way. And on top of that, Jasper had obviously been horrendously wounded at some point, judging from his scars.

His face and body disfigured, his wife raped and murdered, and his son rendered speechless by the trauma...

Edward suddenly understood why any man wearing Union blue was still Jasper's enemy.

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><p><strong>AN: Thank you to my girls, jfka06, barburella and jadedandboring. I'd never get through all this without you.**

**Our boy will be out of bed soon. What are we thinking about Jasper now?**


	4. First Steps

**A.N.: So sorry about the lack of review replies. I'm trying to write and get ready for Barburella to come visit me. WEEEEEE!**

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><p><strong>~1860~<strong>

They spent the better part of an hour just chatting until Edward grinned.

Bella tilted her head, staring at him curiously. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

He chuckled, looking down as played with the fabric of the jacket he'd long ago slipped out of. "I hope you don't mind my being so forward, I've just never enjoyed the company of a lady quite so much," he said quietly, looking up from under his eyelashes so she could see his sincerity.

Her cheeks turned a remarkably pretty, scarlet color, but she smiled, seeming pleased. "Perhaps it's true what they say, that Northerners are so much different than the folks down here."

Now it was his turn to seem perplexed. "What do you mean?"

"Well," she said wistfully. "I suppose there is something to the gossip about me. Being raised without a mother has left its mark." She screwed up her mouth on one side, looking out to the river before she continued. "I would rather converse with boys than with girls, but it is no longer proper for me to do so... and truth be told, it seems most of the boys now prefer the company of the girls who will simper and flirt. I am still too much a child to be an adult and too far grown to play with the little ones." She looked up at him, and though she tried to hide it with a small smile, he could see a deep hurt hidden in her eyes. "I cannot remember the last time anyone enjoyed my company."

His heart gave a strange lurch, some combination of fury and sadness. Before he knew what he was doing, he'd stepped over to her, closer than he knew he should. He was caught up in the need to defend her to anyone who would think ill of her. Equally pressing was his desire to take away that hint of pain in her eyes. He caught her face between his hands, looking on her intently. "They are fools, Isabella Swan, and you are better off without their company."

She didn't answer. It took him a moment to realize why her eyes were wide and her breath caught in her throat. She bit her lip, her eyelashes fluttering.

Abruptly, Edward realized he was touching a girl in an intimate manner for the first time in his life. It occurred to him that he was acting much in the same way he'd seen his classmates and other boys back home act when they found themselves smitten with a girl: just a little bit daffy. He found himself regretting laughing at them; they'd seemed so foolish.

It took the space of that heartbeat for Edward to feel hopelessly out of his depth. His mouth went dry, his throat constricted, and his heartbeat sped. Despite the humidity of the day, Edward was entirely too aware of the heat her body exuded - so much different. Rather than wishing to escape it, he was drawn forward, barely resisting the urge to pull her tight against him.

He was utterly frantic with the need to kiss her.

Edward swallowed hard, still frozen with his hands on her cheeks.

How was he going to do this?

Wait, _was_ he going to do this?

Somehow, he tore his gaze away from her lips to meet her eyes, an apology about to slip from his mouth when he froze again, completely startled by what he saw.

Her eyes were as loud as any shout and saying she wanted him to do exactly as he pleased.

Edward was utterly helpless to do anything but oblige.

Her lips, as he brushed his against them, were smooth and soft. His eyes closed, too overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through him to keep open. It was amazing how that little bit of pink, moist skin was the most incredible tactile experience he'd ever had. Her upper lip fit perfectly in the little space between both of his, and she kissed him back with the slightest pressure. Surely there was no greater bliss than this.

When her hands cupped his elbows as she shifted closer to him, concrete thought returned to him. With a wild gasp, he stepped away from her, horribly guilty. "M-miss Swan, I'm so sorry. I've no idea what came over me."

She looked up at him, her mouth shaping a little 'o' of surprise. He felt lower than low, watching hurt flit across her features before she turned away, wrapping her arms around her shoulders defensively.

Again, the need to soothe her misery won out over his ingrained manners. He stepped up to her, one hand on her arm to catch her attention. "Miss Swan, I... It's not that I regret. Just think of the situation we find ourselves in. The hour grows later, and if we are seen walking out of these woods together, your reputation will suffer for it." He frowned, running his hand through his hair. "While I return to West Point unscathed."

Bella looked up again, her eyes searching his uncertainly. She nodded slowly. "You're right, Mr. Cullen," she said finally, her voice light as a breath. She cleared her throat and squared her shoulders. "Will you escort me at least to treeline?"

With a gentle smile, happy beyond measure that she was permitting him to touch her again, Edward offered his arm. "It would be both my duty and my pleasure."

They walked in silence, both deep in thought. Though he was dying to ask her what she was thinking about, Edward was preoccupied with his own musings.

What was the code of conduct in this situation?

Edward was suddenly filled with notions that had never occurred to him before. Was it plausible to court someone from such a distance? He knew it was. Several of his classmates had sweethearts back home and frequently received letters that smelled of women's perfume. Would Bella like that? Would she want him to pursue her? He suddenly understood the appeal - why those classmates with their girl's handkerchiefs as a keepsake in their pockets had not the time for their lessons but spent hours upon hours crafting perfect letters.

Would her father allow it?

Grimacing, Edward realized just how unlikely that was.

He was, after all, a Northerner, and Bella a Southern damsel. While Edward preferred to avoid the conversation, any fool could see the country was on the brink of splitting right in two, and when it did, they would be caught on different sides of a great chasm.

With the future so uncertain, was it fair for him to lay claim to her heart when he could promise her nothing?

By the end of their walk, Edward had no answers. The situation seemed impossible.

He stopped her, before she slipped through the trees, bringing both of her hands to his lips. Closing his eyes, he kissed her knuckles firmly, knowing he was letting go of a dream before it could even begin.

_**~1865~**_

After that party, Edward hadn't seen Bella for the rest of his visit. She'd remained in his thoughts. He'd wrestled for months with the desire to write to her. Then the war had come, and it didn't take long for an afternoon spent with a feisty young girl to seem like a faraway dream that happened, like the rest of his fantasies of peace and comfort, only in the recesses of his mind.

Save for one Christmas furlough and the nine day leave he'd been granted to bury his father, Edward served continuously from the first day of the war until he'd come across a young woman being harassed. All that time spent living in tents in the unforgiving heat, the mud, and the unbearable cold, watching friends die gruesome deaths, shooting down his fellow human beings... he was no longer the naively innocent boy tied in knots by a relatively chaste kiss.

How interesting that this same girl, no longer a child of 16 but a strong woman of 21, would be the same to reintroduce him to the better side of humanity. She was kind and patient. She'd risked so much to make sure he was well taken care of, even though he'd essentially fought to rob her and her kin of their way of life.

Bella's inconvenience was just one of the many reasons his lingering weakness bothered him to no end. Though he was only awake for an hour here and there, Edward had pieced together that her duties included working the crops - a fact that broke his heart - along with her household chores. Between that and taking care of him and the child, she must have been running herself ragged.

Since she had the stalwartness to do all that, he resolved that he would find the strength to move from the bed.

Edward wryly decided that his first goal would be to use the privy instead of the chamberpot on his own.

Forcing himself to exercise patience, Edward moved slowly. He spun so his legs were dangling off the bed, pausing to rest for he was already weary. After a few moments, he gripped the edge of his headboard, gritting his teeth at the pain that shot through his side as he pulled himself into a sitting position.

For a long moment, Edward was sure he was going to retch. His stomach churned sickeningly and his head spun. Gasping, he bent forward, just trying to breathe through the waves of agony coursing through his body. Besides his obvious injury, his every muscle protested being moved after such dormancy.

"Oh! Sergeant Cullen! What do you think you're doing?" Bella flew to his side, her hands on his shoulders.

He knew what he must have looked like. He was hunched over, leaning heavily with one hand braced against the bedpost. His body was shaking hard, and he knew his face must have been bone white, for he'd felt the blood drain from it with his exertions. Still, he held out his hand, bidding her to stop.

Swallowing hard and breathing shallowly, the pain seemed to be loosening its grip in fractions of an inch. "Will you...please...call me... Edward?" he asked between pants.

Her gentle hands brushed a strand of sweaty hair from his forehead. "Fine. Edward, what is it you think you're doing?"

"Sitting. Just sitting." He closed his eyes, forcing himself to breathe deeper, slower.

"Well, you should be abed -"

"I am sick of this bed!" he snapped, the irritation giving him a momentary burst of strength. He breathed deep again, instantly feeling contrite. "Please forgive me," he said softer, his shoulders sagging even further. "I should not be ill tempered with you."

The bed dipped as she sat beside him, her comforting hands soft on his back. "Who could blame you? Were I in your position, I'd likely be more like to whine than you have so far."

His smile was small. "Well, I've been asleep most of the time," he pointed out.

She chuckled and they sat quietly for a few moments. Finally, Edward felt in enough control of the pain that he opened his eyes, letting them adjust to the room. His gaze fell on the items by his bedside - medicine, water... and a curious item that made his smile broader. Taking his shaking hand from the bedpost, he plucked up the feather that lay on the table, twirling it between his thumb and forefinger.

"Peter is an obedient child, but not without his own opinions," Bella said softly, chuckling. "He likes you."

"Does he stay with you?" Edward asked, endlessly curious about exactly what was going on with Bella and Jasper.

Bella busied herself, unwinding his bandages so she could check his wound. "For the few days it took for the news to reach Jasper and for him to get here, Peter stayed with me. There was no one else. Then afterward..."

She sighed. "Jasper was in no shape to care for a small child. It's only been more recently, perhaps a month or more, that Jasper came to take him home for good. Still, he leaves Peter here most mornings as it is easier for me to look after him as I tend the gardens." She looked up, a little sad. "The work in the fields is much harder and no place for such a young child." She rolled her eyes slightly. "And, of course, Jasper has spent the last five nights on a couch in my living room."

Edward looked down at his hands, but he was smiling. "I'm not sure I would be any different in his place," he admitted softly. "Perhaps you should reconsider. I can convalesce in a hospital."

Her look then was sharp as she shook her head, reaching for the washcloth on the basin. "I was not exaggerating for the sake of it," she said as she began to carefully clean around his wound. "I know how they treat Union soldiers there. You are no inconvenience to me, so you'd best get used to the idea of staying here until you can walk out under your own power. The sooner the better."

_Feisty __as __ever.__At __least __some __things never __change._

Rather than dwell or argue, Edward chose to ask another question. "Aside from Jasper protecting you from my viciousness, do you live here alone?" She was silent and Edward cursed his bluntness. "I'm sorry, that was very rude." He hissed, gritting his teeth against the stab of agony at her efforts.

"It's fine," she said lightly. "I was just thinking I should tell you the whole sordid tale if you are truly interested."

"I am," he assured. "If you want to tell me."

She frowned. "I can't see a reason not to." She put the cloth down, sighing as picked up the salve. "My father and I lived alone in a plantation house about a mile from here. He had this house built shortly before the war, hoping to make it part of my dowry." She pursed her lips. "He was optimistic, I suppose. In any event, the war came and he, like most men of age, enlisted as a member of the 7th Texas Mounted Rifles," She paused, biting her lip hard for a moment. "And was summarily killed at the Battle of Valverde."

Edward sucked in a sharp breath.

Her father had been dead for three years.

"I'm so sorry," he murmured, softly touching his hand to her knee for a brief moment.

"Thank you," she said, smiling back sincerely. Taking a deep breath, she continued. "Well, I was just 17, so Jasper's mother took me in. I called her Miss Lucy even though she was married, and she never tried to correct me." Bella reached by him, picking up a fresh bandage. "She was kind that way.

"So we lived, getting by as we could for the majority of the war. We were struggling. Well, they were struggling," she amended. "My father's investments were managed through a friend of his, and our farm and fields flourished for a time. But the Whitlocks...

"A little over a year ago, Jasper's father died. He was much older, and I'm sure the constant stress wasn't good for his heart." She frowned and Edward's heart again ached for this woman. She'd been through much. He wondered if it felt like losing her father all over again. "By that time, my father's friend had his own affairs to take care of. I took back control of the farm and the men - my father never owned slaves, not ever," she said fervently.

"I offered to sell the Whitlocks my father's property and moved here. The large house was too big for just me. I split the property as my father would have had I married, keeping only a few acres and the property around this house, while the Whitlocks took over the cotton fields that Jasper works now." She finished wrapping his wound and leaned back. "So, yes, to answer your question. I live here alone, just as Jasper is alone with Peter in the main house. There's a servant's quarters for the men who work the field between the two houses - Jasper and I share the upkeep on that."

Edward bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from prying further. He had so many questions. He did, however, reach over, wrapping his fingers around her wrists and flipping over her hands. As he suspected, they were callous. They could not have been doing so well if they were both toiling in the fields personally.

Bella closed her hands into fists, but she did not snatch them away. "We get by how we can," she said softly, getting up. "You should lay back down. I'll bring you something to eat."

Shaking his head stubbornly, Edward braced one hand on the nightstand. "Perhaps I'll join you in the kitchen for lunch today," he said, beginning to push himself up.

"Oh, for heaven's sakes!" Bella exclaimed, hurrying back to his side and slipping his arm around her shoulder.

"You don't have to -"

"Don't start," she warned. "You should be in bed. If you don't let me help you, you'll fall right on your rear end."

"Come away from there, Bella," Jasper's voice interrupted them. His voice was softer than it had been the last few days, though it was still thick with irritation. "If he's going to insist on being an idiot, I'll help him," he grunted grudgingly.

"I can -"

He groaned. "For once in your life, would it kill you not to argue? I said I would help him. He's a lot heavier than he looks, if you'll remember, and he's like to drag you down with him if he falls." He snickered, rolling his eyes. "I know he's delicate, but I promise I'll be gentle."

Edward narrowed his eyes, bristling and sitting up straighter. "I can handle myself just fine without your assistance," he said thickly.

"Oh, don't be an ass," Jasper snapped. He pulled up his shirt, revealing a long, thick, jagged scar on his side. "It's not like I don't know what it feels like to be run through with a bayonet. I'll help you. I don't have to like it. You don't have to like it. Let's just get this done."

As much as Edward wanted to argue, he knew Jasper was right. If he was being honest with himself, he would acknowledge that he truly shouldn't be attempting to be upright. He could use the help, and Bella was likely too slight to take the brunt of his weight. She was looking at him with concern, so Edward made an effort to smile at her, letting her know he was fine. He fought the urge to grimace was she unwound her arm from around his body and stepped away from the bed, watching fretfully as Jasper took her place.

"Lean on me, and we'll stand on three," Jasper said, his voice rough but his actions patient. "One, two, three." With Jasper's help, Edward stood on fawn's legs, sucking in a sharp breath to keep from shouting a string of profanities.

"We'll be fine, Bella. Why don't you go on?" Jasper said, his arm still steady around Edward.

Still looking reluctant, Bella nodded and walked back out the door.

"You're one silly son of a whore, you know that?" Jasper muttered lowly when she was gone.

"I'll thank you... not to.. call my parentage... into question," Edward seethed, panting with effort.

Jasper fell silent as Edward took an experimental step. They'd shuffled a few more feet when the blond man leaned in close, dropping his tone so there was no chance of Bella overhearing. "You listen to me, Edward Cullen, and you listen good. I know something happened between you and Bella that summer." He scoffed. "She used to write to me at West Point, and then, after your visit, she never failed to ask about you. I thought it was cute - a little girl's fancy. But now that she's a woman on her own out here, I don't want you getting any ideas. She's a good woman. Better than you'll ever deserve. You so much as think at her in an untoward way..."

"I don't know who you think you're talking to," Edward hissed, wishing like hell he could push the other man away. "I have no intentions but to get well enough to leave you to your life."

Jasper's answering laugh was bitterly sarcastic. "Right. Because you Yankees are so good at that." He scoffed.

"Not every Yankee is out to destroy you, Jasper," Edward said, sadness overriding his irritation.

"You'd do well to hold your tongue, sir," the other man hissed back. "As far as I'm concerned, you're all vile butchers."

"That animals can masquerade as men goes for both sides," Edward snapped, anger again giving him a burst of strength. "I know what happened to your family, Jasper. No one deserves that, but monsters exist on both sides." He took a moment to breath, noting the other man's shoulders had gone rigid, his jaw tense with barely contained fury. "My father was working at a hospital in Richmond. A _hospital_. He was tending the wounded - Union and Confederate alike. A madman wearing your colors came in with a pistol. My father was murdered along with three nurses - all of them mothers."

Jasper said nothing for a long moment, though Edward was close enough he heard when the blond man swallowed hard. He breathed in and out through his nose, rage draining slowly from his features. "I'm sorry," he said finally, the word coming out terse but nonetheless sincere.

"Yes," Edward said with a sigh, again leaning heavily on Jasper for support. "I'm sorry, too."

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><p><strong>AN: Thank you to jfka06, barburella and jadedandboring, and to all of you for your support. Much love.**


	5. Quiet Storms

**A/N: Sigh. Again, I'm gonna have to apologize for the lack of review replies. The holiday season is crazy. Please know that your reviews make my day. I love em. Even the snarky ones. hehehhe. Happy Holidays to you and yours!**

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><p>"Just how are you planning to get the money?"<p>

Edward lay in his bed, automatically on alert due to the tone of the discussion happening in the other room. They weren't precisely arguing, but it was clear that Jasper was worried. Bella sounded exasperated. But then, from Edward's observations, people worrying about her frequently exasperated Bella.

"I'll figure something out. What's the difference to you, Jasper?" she asked shortly.

"I don't want to see you out of a home. You're my responsibility and -"

"I'm no one's responsibility," Bella snapped. "I don't care what my father or your father would have expected of you. You've a home of your own to attend to, and I doubt you can pay the fees anymore than I can. Peter should be your main priority, not me. Do you know how you'll keep a roof over his head?"

There was an uncomfortable silence before Edward heard Bella sigh. "I thought not. Don't you worry about me, Jasper Whitlock. I'll figure something."

Edward thumped his head back against his pillow, troubled at this latest revelation. He should have guessed that they were both in dire straights. Much could probably be said about how Jasper had changed during the war, but Edward couldn't make himself believe that he would let a lady work herself so hard if there were any other choice. That and the boy he remembered had no love of field work. That he toiled in his crops himself was telling.

It wasn't at all uncommon. There were an endless line of wolves in sheep's clothing just waiting to take advantage of the bereft South. During the war, with many of the men of the house off fighting, many families had lost their homes, farms, and plantations - some to purposeful destruction, Union soldiers attempting to cut off Southern supplies - some when they lost the free slave labor that kept their cost down, and others to the endless line of con artists waiting in the wings. It hadn't escaped Edward's notice that many more southern families had been destroyed than northern.

Edward realized quickly that should Bella lose her home, there would be no where left for her to go. Jasper was her only friend, and he could not support her. She had no other family. The thought made him frown, an uncomfortable feeling settling at the core of his heart.

He decided right then that he would sooner die than see that happen.

"Will you at least consider ridding yourself of your guest now?" Jasper asked, sounding more frustrated than angry. "You've done your duty. He is well on the road to recovery. You've fed him your last bit of poultry and hearty vegetables while you yourself survive on grain. Let him go to the hospital, Bella. You don't need to shoulder this burden. He is well enough to save his own leg, should it come to that."

"Jasper Whitlock, I won't condemn him to that place, and that's the end of it." She sighed, a long, aggravated sound. "When we came here, one thing my father admired about the South was its sense of hospitality. It is something he strove to adopt. What good is surviving if we lose who we are in the process?"

~0~

After Jasper left, Edward lingered in bed both ruminating about what he'd overheard and doing his best to avoid running into the blond man. While his old friend's temperament had improved considerably, things were still more than a little uncomfortably tense. Now, of course, he understood there was reason for Jasper's ire that stretched even further than his hate of anyone in Union blue. While he put his sweat and blood into the land, barely scraping by and keeping himself and his son fed, Edward lay nearly useless, taking in valuable resources without pulling his weight.

The thought irked Edward to no end. It seemed important to Bella that he stay as he convalesced, or he would have arranged to leave post haste. He certainly didn't wish to insult her when she'd been so kind. Still, he was getting stronger by the day. Surely there was something he could do to contribute, however small.

Bracing himself against the wall, Edward began the long walk to the kitchen. He concentrated on keeping his feet steady, holding back the urge to curse as each step was agonizing. Bella glanced over her shoulder once and then dutifully looked back to her task of cleaning vegetables in the basin. He knew from experience that what she wanted most was to help him, but she knew better than to try. Instead, she kept her back studiously turned, allowing him some semblance of pride. For that, Edward was endlessly grateful.

Finally, he slid into his now customary seat at the table, panting lightly with exertion. Though he saw the tight set to her lips, Bella said nothing as she placed a talk glass of water in front of him.

"Thank you," he murmured after he'd downed nearly the whole glass. She smiled in response, returning to her vegetables.

Peter, who'd been playing quietly on the floor by Bella's feet, pushed himself up, ambling over to Edward, his eyes, as always, cautious. He climbed onto the chair next to Edward, sitting on his knees, and offered him one of the toy soldiers in his hand.

It was a wooden soldier, obviously painstakingly whittled and painted. "Did your Papa make you this?" he asked the little boy. One of his fellow soldiers used to spend the long nights between battles whittling an entire army for his son back home. Edward imagined Jasper bent close to the lamplight, carving these pieces and thinking of his wife and child.

Peter smiled and nodded, again shaking one of the toys at him with an expectant look on his face. Glancing about automatically - he was sure Jasper wouldn't want Yankee hands touching these items he'd so lovingly carved for his child - Edward took the soldier.

"You look so serious for someone playing with a child's toy," Bella observed a few minutes later, placing a cutting board on the table alongside a bushel of vegetables. She sat across from him as she began to separate stalks of celery.

They were sickly looking, Edward noted. It was suddenly obvious that she would keep the best of her crops to sell, leaving the small, limp stalks to eat. He frowned, wondering why he hadn't noticed this sooner.

Shaking that thought away for the time being, he addressed her question. "It's strange to play at war," he admitted, his voice sad as he marched his soldier beside Peter's. "When I was a boy, I played like this and imagined the excitement...the glory." He breathed in slowly, his heart heavy, remembering his fellow soldier who'd carved similar soldiers...who'd died in the dirt at Shiloh, not living long enough to see the wooden toys delivered to his son. Setting the soldier down on the table, he ruffled Peter's hair affectionately as the boy looked up at him curiously. "There is no glory, only pain and death," he said flatly.

A dark feeling overwhelmed him then, and for many long moments, Edward wallowed, caught in the depths of a sudden despair. Every once in a while it hit him: the things he'd seen and done. Practically all he'd known for four years was war; the effects of it were all around him, from the wound to his side to Bella and Jasper's financial troubles.

In those moments, he didn't understand how life could ever be normal again.

Bella's hand over his put walls around that emotion, tapering it down to a more manageable level. He breathed slowly, willing his erratically pounding heart to slow. Flipping his hand over, he threaded their fingers together, needing an anchor to keep him tethered to the firm, stable earth.

When he felt Peter wrap his whole hand around two of his fingers, Edward gave a shaky laugh. He opened his eyes, smiling at the little boy who was staring at him with concern. "I'm okay now, buddy. Sorry if I scared you. Thank you."

Peter gifted him with another smile before hopping down to the floor. Edward watched as he toddled off to a basket in the corner where some of his other toys were.

"I am sorry about that," Edward apologized sincerely, reluctantly letting go of Bella's hand. "I'm not sure what came over me."

"You've been through much, Edward. You don't have to downplay that for my sake." She returned to breaking celery stalks.

"Let me help you with that," Edward said hastily, wanting to feel less like a burden.

"You don't have to -"

"Please. I'm strong enough to lift a knife. Let me cut the vegetables for you, if that's what your aim is."

She pursed her lips, looking for a moment like she was about to argue. "If it makes you feel better, I suppose I could use the help. I do have more work to attend to out in the crops," she allowed, pushing the cutting board toward him. "We're having soup tonight, and it needs to simmer for most of the day."

For minutes there was only the sound of knives cutting through the crisp flesh of the vegetables and striking the wood beneath. It was more relaxing than he would have thought. It was different from the meals he'd prepared in the army camps - mostly hardtack, salt pork, and dried fruits. The company was a thousand times better. Even in her silence, Edward found Bella's presence soothing.

As they chopped, Edward tried to think of a way to steer the conversation toward what he'd overheard between her and Jasper without giving away that he was eavesdropping. As he could think of no way to bring up her financial situation in polite conversation, he tried a different tactic.

"Bella, I hope you will allow me to purchase some supplies for your table. Perhaps some fresh sausage for breakfast? Or anything else you may need?"

Bella looked up at him from under her eyelashes with cautious eyes. "It will be a while before Jasper can accompany me to the marketplace in Houston," she said carefully. "You may just be well enough to leave us by then." It seemed as though she tried to smile but failed somehow as she said this. "Don't you worry none about me or mine. We have what we need."

"There must be some way I can repay you for your kindness, for the burden I've brought on you," he insisted.

"Kindness is not a burden; it should be a requirement of a decent human being," Bella countered.

Edward scowled at her for a moment before he broke into laughter. "You are stubborn, aren't you?"

She grinned, looking back down at her task. "As a mule, or so they tell me. Personally, I think mules are quite a bit more docile than I, but there you have it."

"Perhaps," Edward said quietly. "But I find your company far preferable."

She ducked her head, her cheeks flushing pink. Her smile seemed pleased and Edward e wondered why that made him so happy. "Incidentally... I find your company quite enjoyable as well."

~0~

Edward woke with a start, his skin crawling and his every sense aware, in a heightened state of alertness that skirted the edge of panic. He jumped out of bed before he remembered he was injured, his only thought that he needed to get to his gun. He sunk to his knees, gasping in pain.

As he caught his breath, Edward glanced around frantically. He felt threatened and desperate to know if Bella and Peter were okay.

It took him a moment to figure out what had spooked him. Specifically, he realized what had happened when thunder rumbled outside. Gradually, it occurred to him that the constant noise he was hearing was rain.

Edward laughed wryly at himself, struggling to stand. Though he knew now that there was no danger, he felt the need to see Bella and the baby, to be sure they were safe. It was easier to mitigate the passion with so much adrenaline running through his veins. He found himself moving slightly faster than was possible recently.

As soon as he got to the door he felt the invisible vice grip that had settled over his chest eased considerably. He saw Bella leaning over, her hands on her knees as she peered under the table. Surely enough, Peter was cowering there, sobbing with his hands over his ears. Edward's heart automatically went out to the boy.

"Hey, sugar. What are you doing under there?" Bella asked, keeping her voice light.

Of course, Peter didn't comment, but his cries quieted some.

Edward leaned against the doorway in the semi-darkness of the early, stormy morning, hoping she wouldn't spot him. Her smile was gentle, beautiful on her face, and as she sunk down onto her knees, for once she looked much younger than her 21 years.

Thunder boomed, making Edward flinch and Peter whimper. Edward closed his eyes briefly, breathing deep to mitigate the panic that encroached on his psyche. Though his rational mind knew it was just thunder, he couldn't help but think back to the deep, resonating crack of cannon fire nearby and the shouts of men as they fought and fell.

"It's okay, precious."

Bella's voice was enough to keep him in the present. He took another long breath, letting her words soothe him.

"It's just thunder. It means the rains have come. Hear that?" Carefully, she reached under the table, pulling the baby to her. His chubby arms around her neck, he clung to her, obviously still frightened. "Look, Peter." She brought him to the open doorway though he made distressed noises, burying his face against her skin. "The thunder brings the rain and makes the land green." Smiling, she tickled his stomach lightly. "And if the rain keeps up like this, your Pa will have to come in from the fields early."

At that, Peter lifted his head, staring out toward the fields anxiously, searching. Edward muffled his chuckle against the back of his hand.

Bella breathed in deep, like she was savoring the scent of the wet earth. It struck Edward then how very rare a creature she was. Like so many others, she'd lost much. Unlike many others, she did not bemoan her situation, but took each day as it came. That she could take a moment to revel in the rain cuddling the child in her arms close seemed poignant somehow.

It gave him hope that life could be normal again.

Suddenly eager to be at her side, Edward reached for the cane Bella had brought him just a few days before. She'd found it amongst her father's things. When he frowned in displeasure at the idea of walking around with the assistance of the cane, Bella merely smiled, telling him she thought it looked distinguished. That along with the fact that it did help him walk without assistance made the thing a little more palatable.

Of course, there was no such thing as stealth when he walked across wooden floors. Bella turned to face him almost as soon as he began his trek across the living room. Her smile, when she saw him, made his stomach twist in a strangely pleasant way, and he smiled back automatically.

"Edward, good morning," she greeted. "Won't you join me on the porch? I think it would be nice to enjoy the rain for a spell."

His lips twisted, an errant thought crossing his mind. Were this a much different world, if Edward wanted to see Bella socially they probably would have had long afternoons sitting with iced tea on the porch where her father or her old nanny could check out the window to rest assured they were behaving themselves.

"That sounds lovely," he said softly.

When he was settled on the porch swing, Bella set Peter down beside him. The little boy instantly clutched his arm, obviously not quite at ease with the whole thunder situation. Bella darted inside only long enough to retrieve a blanket which she draped over their legs, warding off the chill.

"It's funny. For some reason, you struck me as the kind of girl who would enjoy the sunshine to the rain," Edward observed, finding he was enjoying watching her more than watching the rain fall.

She turned slightly, her lips pursed as she thought her answer through. "Well, the sunshine of Texas often brings with it the humidity, and that I can do without. But I suppose, typically speaking, I prefer the warmth. It's just that I know the early rains are good for the crops." She breathed in, closing her eyes briefly. "I expect we are due a small bit of luck."

Edward fell silent, looking out at the rain but not truly seeing it. His mind leaped from subject to subject following only a barely logical trail. He thought of Bella's financial situation, wondering what fees were hanging over her head that made Jasper so worried a week or so before. He thought of all the responsibilities of running a household and frowned, realizing abruptly that the life he'd known the last four years was over. All too soon, he would have to return to his own life, whatever that encompassed.

"You seem so serious suddenly. Is there something troubling you?" Bella asked quietly, breaking in to his pondering.

"No trouble per se. I was considering the date," Edward mused aloud. "June twentieth approaches quite quickly."

Her eyebrows furrowed slightly, and Edward had to chuckle at her adorably perplexed expression. She smiled back a little uncertainly. "What happens on June twentieth?"

Edward looked back out over the land, his lips tugging downward. "I enter my twenty-third year," he murmured, and then sighed. "How odd, to say that out loud. I feel... so much more weary than 23 years implies, but the calendar is quite insistent. Yet, in other ways, I feel entirely unprepared. Should not a man of my years know more about his own life?"

"What do you mean?"

Wondering why he was burdening this woman with his heaviest thoughts, Edward shook his head and spoke anyway. "In my boyhood, I dreamed of being a soldier and worked to that goal. Now I find myself discharged from my position, and all too happy of that, but it does leave the question of 'what next'? Soldiering is what I know - it's _all_I know. What work am I suited for now?"

His frown deepened and his heart began to ache. "And what of the other aspects of a life? My father was a good man and a good husband. I cannot tell you how much I regret that I took his presence for granted – that he provided for me and my siblings and listened to us well when other men have little patience for their children." He bowed his head, feeling slightly overwhelmed. "I fear, without his guidance, I will falter as a husband and father, when that time comes for me."

Quickly, he shook his head, angry at himself. "But look at me. I am remiss in my manners as a guest. Please excuse my rudeness. I didn't mean to lay my burdens, such as they are, on your shoulders."

Bella sighed, reaching out to touch his shoulder lightly. "I hope by now you realize that we are friends. Your worries are understandable and not a burden at all."

"Well, regardless, it's time I stop taking of your generosity to such a large extent," he said firmly. "If you refuse my offer of supplies and the like, there must be something I can do for you."

Bella was already shaking her head. "Perhaps you hit your head harder than I originally suspected. I think I've told you enough times that if you overwork yourself, it will take you longer to recover, and what good is that to anyone?"

"Surely there must be some chore that is not so strenuous," he countered. "My mother always said that owning a home was a full time job in and of itself. Any time my father took from work, she had a list of tasks for him." He grinned impishly. "He called it her 'Honey-do' list." His smile fell slightly at the memory, and he missed both his parents with a fierceness that nearly knocked the breath from him right then.

"Honey do this, and honey do that. Yes, Jasper's parents had much the same system," she mused with a snort. Bella pursed her lips, watching him with gentling features. "If you are amenable and able, there are some moderate repairs I could use some assistance with," she allowed grudgingly.

~0~

Edward smiled feeling ridiculously proud at his handiwork as he checked the loose shutters in Bella's bedroom. Though he'd been glad when Bella agreed to let him help, the prospect was daunting given that he knew nothing of household repair work. This relatively minor accomplishment did wonders to assuage his wounded masculine pride. It also gave him a degree of comfort to help Bella.

It still felt so wrong, so very unjust that she'd been left to fend for herself.

A loud whoop startled Edward, nearly sending him toppling off the chair he sat in. Jasper's voice filtered in from the living room. "It's raining cats and dogs out there." There was a pause and a delighted childish squeal as Jasper must have picked up Peter. "Hear that, Petey? I think the good Lord spilled his water glass. That means only good things for us."

"Oh, Jasper. You're soaked to the bone," Bella protested.

Edward got to the door in time to see Jasper pull her under his other arm, squeezing her tight as she protested. He was sopping wet and seemed intent on leaving both Bella and Peter in much the same state. "I'm not made of sugar, sugar. It's just a little water," he teased her, not letting go though she pushed away from him as she laughed.

It was strange, the emotion that came over Edward then. He had to grip the wood of the door frame tight to keep himself still. What he really wanted was to fly across the room, ripping Bella away from Jasper's arms.

Edward was disturbed by the flavor of his indignant thoughts. He wanted to yell that Jasper had no right to manhandle Bella in that fashion, but then, it was not his place to say so. It was obvious that Bella was not uncomfortable with his attention. He simply... didn't like it.

Chuckling, Jasper released Bella from his grip and set Peter on the floor, ruffling his hair affectionately. "Well, seeing how I won't be accomplishing much in the fields today, maybe now is a good time to look into some of the chores around here. Don't you have a shutter that needs mending?"

"As it happens, Edward is taking care of that as we speak," Bella said mildly, stooping to examine the state of Peter's wet clothing.

Jasper's eyes narrowed. "Edward?"

Not for the first time, Edward found himself wondering what Jasper's intentions were toward Bella.

If Jasper was the true man of the house, decorum would prohibit Edward from offering his assistance in household repairs lest he step on the other man's toes. The last time Edward had asked Jasper about his interest in Bella, they'd both been boys, but much had changed since then. She looked after his child, after all, and he'd stated on more than one occasion that he felt a great responsibility toward her. Could it be he felt more than that?

And if it was, why did that thought make Edward's blood boil in his veins, his hands automatically forming fists?

Jasper blew out a long breath of air and shrugged, visibly putting on a less irritated expression as Bella straightened up again. "Well, I suppose he got tired of being about as useful as a screen door on a canoe."

"Jasper," Bella admonished.

Edward retreated back into Bella's room, deciding it wouldn't hurt to triple check the shutters. It was suddenly very important that Jasper found no cause to berate his work.

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><p><strong>AN: Thank you to jadedandboring, jfka06, and Barburella for putting up with my whining. I love youz guyz.**


	6. Nighttime Transgressions

**A/N: I am so sorry about the review reply situation. The holidays did a number on my mojo, and I'm trying to get back on track. I love and read every one of them. Thank you so much.**

**Special thanks to Twilight Mundi for stepping in to beta. Please send love and kind thoughts for a speedy recovery to my dear jadedandboring. **

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><p>When Edward was twelve, nearly thirteen, he'd woken in the middle of the night, hearing something of a commotion. Opening his door just a crack, he recognized his parents, their forms bathed in the low lamplight of the hallway. To his great surprise, it appeared as though his father had a bundle in his arms. No, not a bundle, a girl. Though Edward couldn't see her face from his vantage point, he did see dainty feet dangling from his father's hold.<p>

His mother was babbling, her tone, as always, gentle but nervous. "You'll be fine here, dear. The sheets are fresh, and I'll be sure to tell the maid not to bother you in the morning. You can sleep as long as you like."

Whatever else she might have said faded away as they moved off into the guest room, leaving Edward profoundly perplexed and curious. When his parents reemerged from the guest room, he watched them retreat to the master bedroom all the way down the hall.

Though he was old enough to know better than to eavesdrop, concern and curiosity got the better of him. He crept down the hallway quietly and knelt outside their door, glad they still left it open a crack, lest one of their children needed something.

"-so sorry to bring this on you unawares. I simply couldn't leave her there," his father was saying.

"Carlisle, of course I understand. What choice did you have? The poor dear has been through so much as it is." His mother's voice was teary, but that was not unusual. Though she was unquestionably a strong woman, she was also a sympathetic creature. Nothing pained her more than the suffering of others. "As always, my husband, I am proud of you. It is the right thing."

Edward listened as his parents talked about the situation at hand. It seemed that Carlisle, who hadn't been home for dinner that evening, had been at the Hale estate, tending to their eldest child and only daughter, Rosalie. From what Edward gathered, something terrible had happened to the girl, and her parents had not reacted well, prompting Carlisle to bring her back to the Cullen house to care for.

Eventually, the feeling that he was prying into matters that were none of his business got the better of Edward, and he returned to his room to wait for morning.

At breakfast he alone seemed aware of how tired his mother looked and that concern etched her normally serene features. Emmett, nearly seventeen and always more interested in food than just about anything else except girls, was tossing a biscuit he'd stolen fresh from the stove between his hands, wincing at the heat. Alice, only nine, was humming softly to herself, practicing her sewing as she mended a small tear on her doll's dress.

Edward watched, nervous as his mother helped the cook set breakfast on the table. She sat down across from them with a sigh, straightened up noticeably in her chair and called for their attention. "Children?"

When she was sure they were all looking at her, she put on a slight smile, trying to put them at ease. "Rosalie Hale has come to stay with us for the time being," she said gently. "She is very ill, so I expect you to be polite and quiet. She will need a great deal of rest to get better, and you are not to pester her, is that clear?"

The three of them looked at each other, shock evident on their faces. "Mummy, if she is ill, why is she here? Wouldn't being with her mummy and daddy make her feel better?" Alice asked, completely perplexed.

Esme's smile was tight and sad as she reached out to pat her daughter's cheek. "Her parents thought it best for her to stay with us," she said quietly.

"Because Papa is a doctor?" Alice inquired, brightening.

"Yes, poppet. That's exactly why."

Alice nodded, accepting that explanation easily, and returned her attention to her doll. "Papa will make her better," she said with the certainty of a child who still believed her father was an infallible hero.

Edward and Emmett were not so quickly put at ease. They tried to get more out of their mother until Esme put her foot down, directing them to eat their breakfast.

After breakfast though, Carlisle came downstairs and called both boys into his study. His posture automatically made Edward more anxious. It was only when his father was particularly disturbed or disappointed that he stood, his hands clasped behind his back as he stared out the window. Glancing at Emmett, he could see that his older brother was resisting the urge to squirm, his usually bright features tight with concern. It was difficult not to think that they were in trouble.

Sighing, Carlisle finally turned and sat in his customary chair. "What I am about to tell you is absolutely none of your business," he said, his voice unnaturally hard – almost rough. "I expect you to keep this to yourselves, and be tactful about what you know. You are to tell no one, particularly not your sister. Do you understand?"

Again glancing at each other with wide eyes, the boys looked to their father and nodded.

Carlisle's shoulders slumped and he bent forward slightly, a troubled expression coming over his face. "The only reason I choose to discuss this with you at all is because you are old enough to know when your mother and I keep secrets." He paused, looking above them for a moment, as if he were asking a higher power for help before he looked back to them steadily. "That, and it is my duty, as your father, to raise you to be good, honorable men."

He proceeded to explain that Rosalie, who had, till that summer, been Emmett's schoolmate, had been carnally and forcefully taken by her fiancé and his friends. At twelve, Edward knew very little about those kinds of relations between a man and a woman, but he knew enough to understand the basics of what had happened. It made his stomach twist in revulsion and an anger he didn't know what to do with boil in his veins. Glancing at his brother, he could see that his hands too were balled into fists.

"Many men would tell you that there is nothing wrong with what happened, that Royce, while perhaps being a bit impetuous, had the right to do as he pleased with his fiancée," Carlisle said, his voice harsh with disgust and disapproval. "I am not one of those men. What those boys did was unconscionable. It is my fervent hope that I've taught you both well enough to understand that."

"We understand, Father," Emmett said quickly, and Edward nodded his ardent agreement.

Carlisle nodded, a hint of relief in his features, and Edward remembered thinking he looked very tired. "Well, as I said, I believe you are old enough that I can be honest with you. I am sure you understand the stigma that follows a girl who does not make it to her marriage bed a virgin."

The subject was obviously difficult for Carlisle to talk about, so Edward tried not to let on how uncomfortable he was hearing such things. He resisted the urge to look about furtively, as if they might be overheard by his mother's more delicate ears. This was not something that was discussed out loud in polite society. He nodded again, trying to ignore the fact he was blushing furiously.

"Well," Carlisle continued. "Rosalie's parents have chosen to find her at fault for Royce's actions. It is a decision I could not abide by. As it is, the poor child will have a long recovery. It's my belief and experience that in a hostile environment, she might not recover at all. However, the Hales have agreed to let Rosalie stay here as my ward, for the time being." His expression softened slightly. "I know I can trust you both to treat her with respect and kindness. I have told you the full story because I know what you hear outside this house will, most likely, be only a shadow of the truth."

Finally, he leaned back in his chair, stroking his chin with a contemplative expression. "As a physician, I am well aware that there are many differing schools of thought about how men should treat women." In his naivety, it took Edward years to understand what his father meant by that. At the time, he didn't question, sickened and saddened as he was by the overwhelming information Carlisle was giving them. "I cannot fathom that Royce Senior would condone his son's actions, so though I hope I have provided you with a good example in the way I treat your mother and sister, I will not be remiss in my duties as your father."

Looking them both in the eye, he spoke with gentle authority. "I expect you to treat all people, but especially women, with respect and dignity. No woman is your plaything, but should be treated with delicacy, gentleness, and kindness." A small smile quirked the edge of his lips as he spoke the next. "Your mother, I feel, is my better in most every way. It is my belief that if you can look at a woman without feeling lucky that she chooses to look at you, then you are missing one of life's most beautiful facets. It is my hope that you will wait until you find that connection before you act on any carnal instinct."

~0~

Edward sat on his borrowed bed in this borrowed room staring down at the floor feeling guilty.

Mostly.

Actually, he felt a great many things, but he chose to concentrate on the guilt rather than the uncomfortable tightness in his trousers and the myriad of thoughts that went with it.

If there was one thing Edward had learned about the encroaching Texas summers, it was that there was no escaping the way the air grew thick and heavy with oppressive heat. Even without the storms, his skin had not been dry in days.

Rather than alleviate the humidity, the rolling monsoon clouds only brought thunder, rain, and lightening to the table, making it all the more impossible for Edward to sleep. Though he'd informed his rational mind repeatedly that the noise was no more than nature, he'd spent the last too many nights tense - waiting for a battle that didn't come.

The moments right after he was startled awake were spent in a muddy space, his body tensing for battle even as incapacitated as he was by his wounds. The only concrete thought in his head was the absolute need to be sure Bella and the baby were safe. His limbs would draw him forward before he could remember where he was and when.

He supposed he should have been glad to see a measurable improvement in how he moved. He still leaned against the wall for support, but he made it all the way to the door to Bella's room before his thoughts solidified.

It took him too many eons to understand what he was looking at, all of the energy he normally used to think having been allocated elsewhere on his body.

The door to Bella's room was slightly ajar - enough that, when he paused in front of it, he could see she was also awake on this restless night, standing at her window, staring out at the rain and lightning. Edward wanted to believe that if she hadn't done what she did next, he would have turned straight around and gone back to his room. It was rude, no question about it, but he was caught unawares. That was the excuse he made for himself to explain why he lingered long, long after he should have.

Just as he glanced in her room, Bella pulled her nightgown over her head, revealing nothing but bare skin underneath. It took only an instant for him to be entirely captivated. It wasn't just her nudity, though that definitely caught his attention. It was the lithe grace of her beauty as seen through flashes of lightening. The curve of her neck as she piled her hair on top of her head, letting what little coolness the night air provided chill her skin. She was facing to the side so only the small curve of one breast was visible to him.

She was beautiful, and in that instant, Edward's mind was inundated with thousands of ways he wanted to touch her.

He imagined how easy it would be to push the door open and stride up behind her. He wanted to run the pads of his fingers along the curves of her side, feel her shiver underneath his touch and hear her breath catch. He could almost feel exactly how her moist skin would be beneath his fingertips as he moved his hands to her wrists, watching as her dark hair fell down along her back. And then...

Shaking his head hard to dispel his desires, Edward forced himself to turn away. He couldn't ignore the tightness in his throat or the sudden, screaming need between his legs. Quickly, Edward had made his way back down the hallway, leaning more heavily against the wall than before, his breath slightly more labored. His eyes, more accustomed to the darkness now, spotted Jasper's form on the sofa as he passed, and Edward couldn't help but be thankful his former friend hadn't awakened.

He could only imagine that the other man would not have reacted well to his voyeurism.

Now, Edward sat on the edge of his bed, trying to calm the lust that had risen like a flame from a mere ember to a burning, insistent fire.

Like any well-bred young man, Edward had come to understand what should and should not be expected of the fairer sex. When they reached a certain age, his childhood friends had begun sowing their wild oats with shopkeepers' daughters and young servants. Though it was impossible not to be curious, Edward couldn't help but notice the disproving look on his father's face when they heard gossip of this or that young man who'd gotten a girl in trouble.

As long as the girl was beneath his station, it was permissible, providing the young man in question was not so crassly blatant about his conquests. The girls and children produced from these trysts were quietly provided for and summarily dismissed and forgotten as follies of youth.

It wasn't exactly difficult to understand the pervasive mentality. Boys of his breeding were brought up to understand that they would eventually take wives, and while it was expected such marriages would produce heirs, beyond what trouble it took to conceive a child, many men didn't bother their wives with the pleasure they craved. Sex, they learned, was somehow different for women. Distasteful to a first class girl to say the least.

However, Edward was Carlisle Cullen's son, and he had never known his father to 'bother' anyone but his mother. In private, he'd often stumbled up on them, his mother in his father's lap, and their kisses much more ardent than politeness dictated.

Edward had reached West Point without any first hand knowledge of exactly what went on behind closed doors. Once he got there, he had no intention of changing that fact. Oh, it was true enough that one could get just as thorough an education in the bodies of women folk as they could in the art of war at West Point. There were several laundresses that he knew for fact some of his classmates visited, coming back dirtier than when they'd left.

The war changed much.

'Laundresses' followed the armies and charged a nickel for half an hour worth of laundering. He wasn't proud of it, but in four years, Edward had spent approximately 25 cents getting his clothes clean.

Suffice to say, the pressures and horrors of war were not something he could ever have hoped to be prepared for. Occasionally, the only thing that kept him sane was just a few minutes of escape, a few minutes to think about anything else but the endless blood and death that surrounded him.

The war was over, and there was no excuse for his being so uncivilized. He'd been raised better than to gawk at a lady so, and imagining that Bella might actually welcome his touch was not a thought he should have ever entertained. Upper class women such as herself viewed sex as distasteful - a chore that they performed weekly as duty to their husbands required. Like doing the dusting, only less enjoyable.

Again, Edward shook his head, trying to quell the thirst of desire that pulled at him. The image of Bella's half nude form was burned behind his eyelids, and he couldn't deny he wanted her. Badly.

And he felt like a cad for even thinking it.

Sighing, Edward lay back in his bed, trying to find the will to sleep again. It was early yet, the dawn having not broken, and days were long and tiring, with much work to be completed.

"Dammit," he muttered to himself.

It was too damn hot to sleep.

Propping his hands behind his head, Edward let his thoughts wander. No matter how he tried, they always came back to Bella. He comforted himself with the fact that not all of his idle thoughts were perverse. No, a great many of them hearkened back to a time, before his innocence was robbed by battle and gore, when he knew exactly what he wanted in life.

He would grow up to be a fine soldier, perhaps go on to be a politician or something like that. When the time came, he would take a wife - a beautiful, well bred, intelligent woman who would be to him what his mother was to his father: a true partner. He'd pictured himself, proud and handsome in his uniform, with his bride at his arm and a family of his own.

Edward chuffed to himself when he remembered that, however briefly, when he looked to the future, there was a time he'd imagined Bella there at his side. She was still the only woman he'd kissed because he wanted her and her specifically – not the physical pleasure or the bragging rights, but the intimate knowledge of Bella alone.

Sometimes he wondered how different things might have turned out if he'd been brave enough to follow the impulse he'd had when he was 17. If he'd sought her father's permission to court her, perhaps he would have been one of those soldiers who escaped the atrocities all around them by writing to their betrothed back home, dreaming of the life they would eventually return to.

Though the war had made him unquestionably jaded, some part of Edward was still that young boy who believed in beautiful ideas. In the darkness of night, he allowed himself to imagine that amidst all this destruction, pain, and shattered lives, maybe, just maybe, he and Bella were meant to find a new life together. Could there be some greater purpose to the fact they'd both been travelling that same road alone and happened to save each other?

But if there was anything Edward had learned over the last four years, it was that reality was not as beautiful as daydreams. There were many complications, not the least of which was that she had a life here, where his life - whatever that might consist of now - was in Chicago. He worried for her, being a woman alone in the world. He wondered how she would manage, but he also had no idea what she wanted.

Grumbling again at the sticky, humid heat, Edward carefully turned over on his good side, trying to ignore the pain and the persistent craving for friction at his core. He closed his eyes, trying to clear his thoughts as he waited for morning.

~0~

As early as was reasonable, Edward got up and went to the kitchen. He thought surely he was capable of putting together breakfast.

His biscuits weren't so bad... if one peeled off the blackened bottoms.

As he moved around the kitchen, a nagging thought occurred to him.

Bella's cupboards were running dangerously close to bare. He thought to check the smokehouse, but there had been no meat on the table for days now.

Deep in thought, Edward wandered outside, leaning heavily on the cane Bella had provided him. The branches of the orange tree closest to the house were just low enough that he could pick a few without much effort.

When he went back inside, Jasper was at the table, examining the breakfast he'd managed to cobble together.

"These are the worst damn biscuits I've ever seen," he muttered, tapping the hard, black side with his fingernail.

"They've got to be better than johnnycakes," Edward said coolly, hobbling to the counter to select a knife. He sat across from Jasper, beginning to cut the oranges into quarters.

Jasper snorted lightly. "Could do with some jerky about now, though," he mumbled, biting into the top of the biscuit experimentally. He chewed slowly, quirking one eyebrow as he stared at the bread. "Guess it ain't half bad if you eat around the burn," he said grudgingly.

"Thank you," Edward answered dryly.

They sat in silence for a few minutes as Edward cut and Jasper ate. "The shelves are fairly sparse," Edward said after a moment, trying to keep his tone light and unassuming. "I'd say Bella's in need of supplies. And she could stand to have a pig or two butchered."

Even out of the corner of his eye, Edward could see Jasper's body stiffen. "Now, what business of yours is that?" he asked.

"It's just a simple observation," Edward answered evenly.

"Well, don't you worry your pretty little head about it," Jasper said sarcastically. "I'm sure she just didn't figure what taking on another mouth to feed would do to her stores. She'll adjust accordingly."

Edward breathed in and out through his nose to keep from snapping at Jasper. "Well, I figure fair is fair. If you're amenable to lending me a horse, I can get to a market in Houston and be back by nightfall."

The blond man looked up, eyeing Edward carefully. "We don't need any help from you," he said shortly.

"We?" Edward asked, meeting Jasper's gaze. "I didn't know you had that kind of relationship with Bella."

"She doesn't need your help," Jasper amended. "She's got what she needs right here."

"She's also got ears." Bella's irritated voice made them both turn. She was standing in the doorway entryway with Peter on her hip and a slight glower as she stared at them both. "Jasper, I'm sure you know I can speak for myself. I've already told you, Edward, while I appreciate your offer, I'll make it down to the market when I need to."

Before he could protest - again - Bella changed the subject, smiling as she sat at the table. "Well, look at this. This is a mighty fine spread. Thank you."

Deciding to let the matter drop for the time being, Edward put two of his orange quarters in front of Bella and Peter. He spared a wink for the little boy when Jasper wasn't looking, holding one of the quarters between his teeth so that his grin was full of rind. Peter giggled and tried to imitate him. Edward chuckled lightly when the little boy accidentally bit into the rind and screwed up his face in disgust, picking the bitten pieces out of his teeth. Again glancing to make sure Jasper wasn't looking, Edward repeated his little trick, this time putting the orange quarter in his mouth with deliberate slowness so Peter saw how he did it.

"What are you giggling at, Petey?" Bella asked, looking down at the toddler on her lap.

Peter looked up at her with a mouth full of orange - half of it sticking out - and grinned.

Bella laughed, and leaned down to kiss his forehead. As she did, Edward felt an odd familiarity spark a comforting warmth in the pit of his belly. It would be nice, he realized, if this was his. His wife. His baby.

Remembering his rude intrusion the night before, Edward quickly looked away, feeling his cheeks grow hot.

If she was his wife, seeing her that way would not be improper or unseemly. In fact, it would be his right, and he would see much more of her than her bare back and the curve of a single breast.

Sitting back in his chair as he worried a piece of biscuit around his mouth, Edward tried to sort through his confusion.

He hadn't the right to think of such things in the state he was in. A man ought to have his life in order before he thought of taking a wife. She was the first taste of a normal life he'd had in four years, that was all. That and he doubtlessly wanted to alleviate some of the guilt he felt for having spied on her as he had. He might be able to write that kind of thing off as permissible if he wanted to marry the girl.

Edward sighed, wishing again that his father were still alive to guide him.

About half an hour later, Jasper had gone out to his fields and Bella was washing the dishes before she began her work for the day.

"Bella..." Edward began, considering his words carefully. "When I happened across you and those men, you were on the way to the market, weren't you?"

She glanced at him, studying his face as if she expected he was trying to lead her into a trap of some sort. "Yes, I was," she finally answered.

"Well, you haven't been to the market, nor sent someone in your stead since I've been here. It's been weeks."

She pursed her lips. "I suspect you're going to get to the point soon?" she said with a slight smirk.

"My Lieutenant sent word to my family when I was first injured, but I suspect if I don't update them on my condition soon, they'll be on their way here before I can stop them." He smiled fondly, missing his mother terribly at that moment. Looking at Bella, he held her gaze. "I need to get toward Houston and a telegraph service anyhow. If you won't allow me to pay my way, will you at least allow me to be your escort there?"

Bella turned back to the sink too quickly for him to see her reaction. She cleared her throat as she put the last dish to the side. "Jasper won't be pleased," she said, her voice musing.

"Well, he isn't your husband," Edward pointed out. "You don't have to ask his leave to go. If we leave right after he's gone out to the fields, he won't know until past lunch time, and it'll be too late by then."

She laughed. "How very devious." She turned, folding her arms across her chest as she looked on him. "He means well, you know. He's just concerned for me."

"I know," he said gently, meaning it. "As I've said, I'm not sure I would be much different in his place. However, your opinion is the only one I care about, at least in this matter."

Bella's smile was soft, almost shy as she looked on him. "Alright, Edward. You may accompany me to the market if it pleases you."

He grinned back. "It pleases me," he murmured, surprised at just how much the prospect of spending a day alone with her pleased him indeed.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Soooo seeing as it's the 1800's... will the market count as a hot date? ;)**


	7. The Market

**A/N: For any of you who saw the teaser on Fictionators a couple of weeks ago, that's for NEXT chapter. These kids changed the game on me. SIGH**

* * *

><p>When Edward visited Jasper's family the summer before the war began, he'd had occasion to see their stables and the carriage house. In its heyday, the Whitlock plantation boasted a stable filled with nearly a hundred horses and a carriage for every occasion.<p>

Just as Bella had explained, there was a servants' quarters halfway between her property and the property that had once belonged to her father. Beside it was a barn where a few ratty wagons and a dilapidated carriage or two had been stashed and all but forgotten.

Edward furrowed his eyebrows, realizing belatedly that Bella had been on foot when he came across her. Had she really intended walking all the way to Houston for whatever groceries she was able to carry? It would have taken her half the day just to get there and been well into night when she returned.

Of course that was what she intended. Edward rolled his eyes. When the girl wanted something, there wasn't a lot that would stop her.

It was the early part of the morning, dawn still casting a gray pallor over the hills and trees. There was a slight chill in the air, for which Edward was grateful as he was working up quite a sweat as it was, testing the wagons and carriages to rest assured that they were safe.

He managed to untangle a stable flat bed wagon from the mess of parts and wheels. Winded, he leaned against the thing, his eyes closed while he breathed through the pain that radiated through his side.

Being reminded of his lingering weakness was frustrating. There was a world out there rebuilding itself, and it had taken him a good hour to accomplish what should have taken minutes.

Then again, were he closer to his normal strength, he would have no reason to linger.

He wondered what it was that made him feel so disquieted about leaving. It was true that it was the first time in his life that he had no idea, no goal, for the future. When he was a boy, he'd had everything figured out. For four years, he'd followed orders, the ultimate goal of preserving the Union foremost in his mind.

Throughout the last long weeks, he'd patched together a semblance of a life. Perhaps it wasn't ideal, but he liked the certainty that came with knowing he would see Bella every day, that they would share friendly conversations over meager meals.

Edward grimaced. He didn't like the idea that he was scared of what lay ahead. He'd always prided himself in being able to tackle whatever life thew at him head on.

Why, then, did the idea of leaving make his heart ache subtly?

Edward sighed slightly when a litany of images entered his thoughts, coloring his memories with a rush of pleasant warmth.

When he saw Bella, or even thought of her, his lips would automatically turn up in a smile. Somewhere along the line, her very presence - in front of him or in his mind - brought him a measure of happiness.

He couldn't deny that when he moved on from here, he would miss her.

"Oh, look at you."

The object of his thoughts rounded the corner of the barn, leading a fine, brown horse by the reins with one hand and Peter by the other. She grimaced, and Edward realized he must be a fine sight. He knew his coloring was bone pale with the exertion of getting the wagon loose.

"You're sure this is a good idea?" Bella asked skeptically.

"It'll be fine," he answered coolly, reminding himself that she was just concerned for his well being. Truthfully, he already suspected this trip was going to take days to recover from, but he wasn't about to tell her that.

He reached for the horse's reins.

"Let me -" Bella began to protest, but stopped when he looked up at her somewhat disparagingly. Biting her lip, she let go of the reins, letting him guide the horse. Wordlessly, she attached the beast to one side while he took care of the other.

Soon enough, they were on their way.

Edward glanced at Bella, smiling when he caught her yawning. "Long night?"

"I haven't been getting much sleep lately," she admitted.

Staring forward, Edward pursed his lips, considering his next words carefully. He knew he shouldn't pry, but he was both curious and concerned. "Is there something worrying you?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her expression sharpen. For a moment she said nothing, simply stroked Peter's hair idly. When she finally spoke her voice was carefully light. "The heat makes it hard to relax."

"That's very true," Edward agreed, though he didn't believe for a moment that the heat was the only thing keeping her awake at night. He shifted in his seat, urging the horse a little faster. "I honestly don't understand the appeal of Texas," he mused aloud.

"Most days, neither do I," Bella said with a light laugh. She tilted her head, looking out over the flat expanse. "Where I was born, we were surrounded by green... cliffs, mountains, ocean." Her sigh was wistful. "I don't know. Perhaps it's that the grass is always greener, and life was always a little lonelier here."

She shook her head, looking off in the distance. "But listen to me go on. I shouldn't be prattling so to you."

Edward turned toward her, offering a grin. "We're friends, remember? You can prattle to me all you want."

It looked as if she might have a witty retort to that, but instead, her nose crinkled as she yawned, putting a hand to her mouth.

"Here," Edward murmured, shrugging his shoulder. "I can make a rather comfortable pillow, or so I've heard."

An uncertain, almost shy expression crossed her face, and for a moment, Edward was sure she was about to say no. Then, she yawned again and laid her head on his shoulder. "Wake me when we get to civilization."

~0~

By the time Houston began springing up around them, both Bella and Peter were snoring softly. Bella's head still lulled on his shoulder, and Peter was laying with half his little body draped over Edward's lap.

Tracing the shell of the child's ear, Edward again considered his future.

He still wanted a family of his own, some day. Of that, at least, he could be sure.

Lifting his eyes from the baby, Edward's grin broadened as his lips brushed soft, brown hair.

He closed his eyes and inhaled, reminding himself that this wasn't his family. "Bella," he murmured, brushing the pads of his fingers briefly against her cheek. "Bella," he said louder, and withheld a sigh when the weight of her head disappeared from his shoulder.

"We're here?" she asked, her voice muddled with sleep.

"We are," he confirmed.

Bella yawned and stretched before she gathered the grumpy toddler up into her arms, shushing his whimpers.

With Bella's direction, Edward found the marketplace easily enough. On a Saturday morning, the streets were teeming with people.

Edward was already bristling. It'd taken him too long to get out of the wagon. By the time he was on the ground, Bella had climbed down on her own and was reaching for Peter. He was put further on edge by the odd feeling he was being glared at. He swore he heard low snickers and harshly muttered words edged with malice.

They'd only gotten as far as the first stall before rough words became physical. One of the men going in the opposite direction purposefully driving his shoulder hard against Edward's.

"I beg your pardon," Edward said gruffly, turning to face the man, leaning heavily on his cane.

The man turned, his grin wide and sarcastic. "Well, my apologies there, dirty Yank. I didn't mean to be walking in a way that didn't suit you."

Edward narrowed his eyes, stepping surreptitiously in front of Bella and Peter. "I've got no quarrel with you, friend," he said, his voice hard. He realized belatedly that though he was wearing a plain linen shirt, he was in his uniform pants.

Union blue.

"I ain't your friend, Yank," the man sneered, spitting at Edward's feet.

"Excuse me!" Bella exclaimed, sounding appalled. "Just what is the problem here?"

The man's eyes went wide. As Southern accents went, Bella's was softer and more subtle than many of the women who'd been born Texan, but it definitely marked her as a Southern lady.

The man narrowed his eyes at Edward, taking a step forward. Edward touched his hand to the pistol at his belt, hoping he wasn't going to have to use it this time.

"What are you playing at, bothering one of our ladies? What, it didn't satisfy you enough to take everything else, you gotta come here for your jollies, too?"

Edward balked. "Sir, I'll thank you to keep a civil tongue in the lady's presence. I don't appreciate your insinuation."

"I don't give a lick what you -"

"Look around you," Edward said loudly, standing up straight and proud. "I think we've all seen enough pointless fighting to last several lifetimes. Not that it's any business of yours, but I offered the lady my assistance as an escort, that's all."

The man looked skeptical. "Is that the way of it, ma'am?" he asked Bella.

"Of course," Bella said, her voice edgy.

He didn't look happy about it but the man tilted his hay and let them be.

"I am sorry," Edward murmured softly, stepping to her side again. "I did not stop to consider how it might be, for you to be seen with the enemy."

"You are not my enemy," Bella said firmly. "And I don't care what these ninnies think." She purposefully looped her arm through his, shifting Peter on her hip. "I'm pleased to be here beside you."

~0~

"Edward, I swear to you, I will stay right here," Bella said, sounding both amused and exasperated. "We can manage on our own in a general store without getting into too much trouble."

Grimacing, Edward considered his options. It would be easy to duck into the telegram office next door, but the idea made his nervous. All day long, they'd been dealing with jeers and men who seemed to have mistaken the ground in front of his feet for a spittoon. An older 'gentleman' with a cane of his own had swept Edward's cane out from under him, spilling him to the ground. The old timer had merely offered a wide grin, lifting his hat with a, "Didn't see ya there, sonny. Eyesight not so good, ya know?"

Edward didn't necessarily blame them. The South had been brought to its knees. Rather than let them retreat so they could lick their wounds and gather some semblance of their pride, the victorious North was too angry to loosen its choke hold, holding much of the lawless South under military law. It was all too easy to see why the embittered ex-soldiers would take out their frustration on a lone, lame Yankee who dared to walk among them with one of their ladies no less.

Though while Edward was obviously viewed with derision and suspect, reactions to Bella were limited to incredulous glares and the occasional lecture about how a respectable Southern woman should not be out and about with Union soldier.

Perhaps it was a better idea to let her alone while she settled her bill. Edward had noticed that the shopkeepers quoted him prices a significant percentage higher than other patrons.

Glancing around, he saw that the store was relatively empty. There was an elderly couple, a woman with a teenage child, and a middle aged man with a young woman, perhaps Bella's age, on his arm. The young woman held a baby.

This war had left no shortage of penniless widows, many of them with small children, looking for husbands wherever they could find them.

"Fine. I'll be only a few minutes," he said gently, casting one more wary look around before he turned.

"Un!" Peter grunted his protest, pulling at Bella's hand, obviously wanting to go with Edward.

For such a simple task, Edward gladly would have taken the little boy. However, the day going as it had, he didn't know that he could care for the child if another Confederate decided to wage a private war.

Smiling sadly, Edward ruffled the boy's hair. "I'll just be a moment, Peter. Stay with Bella, and we'll be on our way shortly."

Peter pouted but stopped struggling, watching Edward as he retreated out the door.

The message Edward sent was simple enough.

I'M DOING WELL STOP  
>EXPECT ME BY THE END OF THE MONTH STOP<p>

He imagined his mother's teary smile. Perhaps Alice would jump excitedly. Though he had to remind himself that Alice was a young lady now, not the child he'd left behind when he went off to West Point.

Honestly, Alice wasn't that much younger than he was. It was just that he'd kept an image of her thirteen year old face in his mind throughout much of the war. It was heartening, when his youth and innocence had been ripped away, to think it still existed out there. But when he'd returned home for his father's funeral, he'd been stoned to find her baby fat had melted away, revealing a stunning young woman with pale white skin and long, jet black hair.

Edward frowned, suddenly feeling guilty for wanting to linger in the heat of Texas. The last he knew, his brother, Emmett, had gone to his fiance in New York. There was no one to look after their mother and little sister.

Like there was no one to look after Bella.

Eager to get back, Edward paid and left quickly.

Back at the general store, Edward paused, concerned by the look he saw on Bella's face. She seemed flustered and frustrated, near tears, though she was holding them at bay. He was about to hurry to her side when he saw her hand go to her neck. She frowned, looking sorrowful as she pulled a long chain from inside her dress.

Curious, Edward tilted his head, trying to figure out what she was doing. At the end of the chain, was a heavy looking gold ring, a man's ring.

Edward wondered suddenly if it was her father's.

She bit her lip as she proffered the ring to the shopkeeper to examine. The man looked at the thing, pulling it away from her neck, and nodded.

For a moment, Bella's lower lip trembled. Then she squared her shoulders, reaching back to undo the clasp of her necklace. She put the ring in the man's hand with a resolute expression on her face.

Taking in the rest of the scene, Edward couldn't help but notice that her stack of supplies had been cut down even further. As it was, she'd hemmed and hawed over every purchase, shoving away a number of things he would have considered staple.

He had already snuck a few purchases onto the back of the wagon when she was otherwise occupied. He had the suspicion that she could not afford even what little she'd purchased.

And of course, she would refuse his help.

Edward strode forward, into her field of vision. It was only because he'd been watching her that he could tell her smile was tighter than it should be. Peter, though, greeted him enthusiastically, throwing his arms around his legs with gusto.

"Hey, buddy. I've only been gone a few minutes," he chuckled, mussing the boy's hair.

"I think he's ready to be home," Bella said softly. "It's been very exciting for you today, hasn't it, Petey?"

Peter craned his neck, looking up at both of them and smiling widely.

"Are we ready to go?" Edward asked, keeping his voice carefully neutral.

Bella nodded. "As soon as we get everything in the wagon, we can head toward home.

_**~0~**_

The trip home was uneventful. Peter again fell asleep with his head cradled on Edward's lap.

After the long day he'd had, it was nice to indulge in pleasant, friendly conversation.

Not for the first time, Edward appreciated the fact that Bella seemed so willing to forget that just a few short months ago, they'd been enemies.

"I suppose I have no allegiance to the South," Bella mused when he brought up the subject. "As I said, my father never owned slaves. We didn't believe in it. And though I've spent more of my years here than in the West, I suppose I've never gained that innate Texan pride that most of my neighbors have."

"Perhaps you have to be born here," Edward suggested.

"Possible," she allowed. She chuffed. "Pride is a dangerous thing. When this all began we were going to whip the Yankees in a week, a month at the most." She looked up at him, her hand going to her chest to touch a ring that was no longer there. "There are not many things I would deem worth giving so many lives for."

At that, Edward was silent. As a young man, the fight had seemed imperative. He still believed in the cause he'd fought for. He wanted to believe that all the men who'd died - his friends, his neighbors...his father - had not given their lives in vain.

That day in the market, he'd seen so many signs of destruction. All over were the vultures come to pick off the dying carcass of the old South. Soldiers came home to decimated bank accounts. Slaves had gained their freedom only to be thrust out into the world with nothing but a hope they could succeed. The vast majority of them were illiterate - entirely too easy to take advantage of.

And of course, there was Bella, trading what he strongly suspected was the last tie she had to her father.

Bella, one of the thousands of women left alone in the world. No one's daughter, no one's wife.

"Bella," he began softly. "Do you... Why did your father move you here from the west?"

"I think he was out of his depth," she answered with a laugh. "He didn't know what to do with a little girl on his own. We had no family left back there. He had a friend here who offered to teach him how to run this place."

"It was a family of sorts when you had none," Edward concluded.

She nodded.

"This friend was the same who watched over your property when you were too young yet?"

Another nod.

"I see," Edward murmured, putting pieces together. The friend who'd helped her had his own business to attend to, and had left her in Jasper's mother's care. He imagined that whomever this friend was, he would be no help to Bella now.

~0~

The afternoon was threatening to bleed into evening when Edward finally saw Bella's little house on the horizon. He prodded the horse faster.

When they arrived at the door, though, Edward thought it might have been wiser to stay away longer. Maybe forever.

Jasper charged out of the house, his eyes narrowed and furious.

Heading him off, Bella handed Peter down to Jasper, occupying his hands before he knew what had happened. He looked to the boy, who wrapped his arms joyously around his neck, and his expression automatically softened. He scowled at Bella briefly, understanding what she had done, before turning his glare on Edward.

"What were you thinking?" Jasper growled. "Taking my boy, and my -"

"Your what?" Edward demanded when Jasper abruptly cut off. "Enlighten me as to what I stole from you for the day for the nefarious purpose of replenishing barren cupboards."

Jasper grimaced. "She's like a sister to me," he said finally. "Did you think about what it would do to her reputation, being seen with a Union officer?"

Edward rolled his eyes. "Because enough people don't already know I'm here?"

"Exactly!"

Edward sighed, holding his hand out to stop Bella from butting in, which she was about to do. "Jasper, I just had a very tiring, very difficult day. Suffice to say, your cause was quite enthusiastically championed. I do understand your point, but I simply don't have the energy for this particular fight. It's done. Your son and Bella were very safe, and supplies were purchased. Now, if you truly insist on having words, can we at least put this off until the morning? I'd like to get our wares inside and go to bed."

He turned without waiting for Jasper to answer and went to the back of the wagon to untie their parcels.

A moment later, Jasper came up beside him, helping him.

Working together, they got the supplies inside, moving faster than either could have done alone.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Good news everyone! Jadedandboring is back on the case!**

**Incidentally, she also has a new Roseward fic out. I know. Roseward. But it's actually very cute, and Edward is utterly adorable. It's called Three Months to a Lifetime. If you are so inclined, give it a look!**

**Thank you to jadedandboring, barburealla, and jfka06  
><strong>


	8. The Heart of the Matter

Another week went by, and Edward began to walk without the assistance of the cane. He took it upon himself, when he felt better, to increase his self imposed duties. When Bella fell ill with a summer flu, he took over most of her usual duties.

That was why, when a lone, black carriage came up the long drive, Edward spotted it first.

He stepped out onto the dirt road, and the driver of the carriage pulled to a stop.

The door opened and a man peered at Edward curiously from the back. He was dressed very finely and wore a top hat. Edward had almost gotten used to seeing people dressed for the fields. Certainly it had been many years since he'd been in anything but a uniform or plain linen.

"Can I help you, Sir?" Edward asked calmly. There was something about the other man's gaze that was cold, calculating. It set him on edge.

The man smiled at him, the expression not unlike that of a snake. "Good morning to you, Sir," he greeted, tilting his hat. "I've business with the er, lady of the house." He cocked an eyebrow, studying Edward curiously. "Unless she's found herself a husband since last we spoke?"

Edward couldn't help but smirk. "I'm close enough for you," he said, an edge creeping into his voice.

The man chuckled. "No need to get unpleasant, Sir," he said easily. "I must say, I feel some relief that the young lady has found a way to cope with her debts." He eyed Edward speculatively, his eyes raking over his shoddy clothing. "At least, I would hope she is making wise choices that will benefit her station." He chuckled. "Women are not known for their logical prowess."

Edward bristled, his fingers flexing at his side. "Perhaps you might introduce yourself, Sir?"

"Ah, of course. How rude of me. My name is Aro Scarpinato."

Edward took his hand, shaking it firmly. "Edward Cullen," he said tightly. "You mentioned something about debts."

Mr. Scarpinato nodded. "I'm afraid Miss Swan is quite behind on the taxes on her farm, Mr. Cullen. I've come to deliver the final collection notice in person." He handed Edward a pamphlet. "If you don't come up with the money, I'm afraid she will lose the farm. She has two weeks."

Edward didn't look at the paper until he was sure Aro's carriage was turned and headed away from Bella's farm. When he saw the total amount due, his heart sank.

By his reckoning, even if she was able to sell the vast majority of her crops, she would not be able to pay the fee.

Disturbed, Edward went back about his tasks, his thoughts heavy.

~0~

A week passed, and though he had left the bill where Bella must have come across it, she had yet to mention it.

Though, Bella being Bella, that was not surprising.

Early one morning, as he was pulling on his boots to start the day, there was a knock at the door. At his call, Bella and Peter entered. She carried what looked like a little cake. Peter clambered up on his bed, crawling toward him eagerly. The little boy climbed into his lap, steadying himself with one arm clinging to Edward's neck. He insistently knocked on Edward's hand until he flipped it, and then Peter deposited three smooth pebbles in his palm.

"Thank you, kind sir," Edward said, wrapping one arm around the baby to secure him. He looked up at Bella. "What's all this?"

"Happy Birthday," Bella said, grinning at him as she sat on the edge of the bed.

Though his first thought was to scold her, knowing that for even such a small, simple cake, she'd spent money she didn't have, her hopeful, eager expression quickly disabused him of that urge. "This is a wonderful surprise. Thank you both."

He ruffled Peter's hair, making the little boy giggle, and looked at Bella, his expression tender and thankful. "Will you share this bounty with me?"

"It's yours," Bella protested.

"And such treasures are best when shared," Edward said firmly. "It is my birthday, after all. You aren't supposed to argue with me."

She rolled her eyes, but smiled. "Well, if you're going to put it that way..."

He grinned impishly at her, and carefully set his new pebbles beside the feather Peter had given him before. He stood, balancing the little boy on his hip carefully.

"Do you want me to take him?" Bella offered, reaching for Peter.

"I have him," Edward assured.

"Your side? Don't you hurt?" she asked, looking concerned.

"No," he said softly. "The pain is less every day, and my strength is returning quickly."

He thought he glimpsed a flash of pain before she turned, picking up the little cake and standing quickly so that her back was to him. "That's good," she said simply, moving toward the door.

Adjusting Peter on his hip, Edward followed her into the kitchen. He sat at the table with the little boy on his lap. Bella retrieved a couple more spoons and they set about devouring the cake.

"Poor Jasper," Edward clucked. "To miss out on such a treat."

He saw Bella's lips twitch downward, and she huffed lightly. "I have a feeling the treat would be wasted on him," she said quietly, shaking her head. "I'm sure he would lecture me that it's wasteful, times being what they are." Smiling, she put another forkful of cake in her mouth, obviously savoring the favor. "But I think, without these sweet moments, life wouldn't be worth living."

As he watched, transfixed, her tongue darted out, catching a crumb of chocolate that had clung to her lower lip. "Sweet," he echoed, swallowing thickly to bite back the urge to cup her cheek and taste the sweetness of her lips.

Clearing his throat, he looked away, laughing lightly as he wiped a smudge of chocolate off Peter's grinning face. He looked up, catching Bella's eyes to convey the sincerity of his words. "Thank you. This is already the best birthday I've had in many years."

_**~0~ **_

Another few days passed, and Edward came to realize that the atmosphere at the house was growing heavier. He thought, at first, it might be his imagination, but he was sure he wasn't the only one dancing around the issue of the quickly approaching future.

One morning, before he went out to find work around the farm, Edward sat at the kitchen table, helping Bella cut vegetables for the soup that would simmer most of the day. The silence between them felt thick, oppressive, but what they both knew he had to say couldn't be put off for much longer.

"I am almost recouped to my normal strength," he began slowly, and as he watched, her knife faltered in its rhythm. "It's time for me to get back home. Arrangements will have to be made, but I may be gone before the week is out."

For a long moment, she said nothing and did not look up at him, but concentrated hard on the vegetables she was chopping. She swallowed hard and nodded, her eyes cast downward. "You must be eager to get back to your family, of course," she murmured, almost as if to herself. It seemed to take some struggle, but she smiled as she finally looked up at him. "We'll miss you here," she said quietly. "I'll miss you," she spoke even quieter, again looking down.

It seemed to Edward that he was teetering on a great precipice. He debated inwardly, knowing that the path he was about to embark on could rock his life to the core, and he wasn't entirely prepared.

Time rarely waited until he was ready, he reflected, and spoke before he could change his mind.

"Bella... I know about the tax."

He heard her quick breath, but she did not react otherwise. "Of course you knew," she said evenly. "I didn't think it was Petey who left the notice for me to find." She looked up, smirking at him briefly, but he could see her eyes were cautious. "Thank you for dealing with that man, by the by. I must admit, he makes me uncomfortable."

Carefully stepping around her attempt to deflect him, he pressed on.

"I saw the sum. It is an incredible amount. Too much," he said. "How can you hope to pay it?"

"That really isn't your concern," she answered, her voice soft but firm.

"You are my friend. I'm concerned for you," he returned.

Bella frowned, looking up at him with a flicker of irritation. "I'll think of something."

"You have precious little time," he reminded. "Please, won't you consider letting me repay you for your kindness?"

"You are very generous, Mr. Cullen. But I cannot accept your charity," Bella said, the tone of her voice suggesting the topic was not open for discussion.

Edward ran a hand over his mouth considering his next words for only a moment before they came out. "It would not be charity if you were my wife."

Bella's hand stilled, her knife poised above the vegetables. "I beg your pardon?"

"Marry me," he said plainly, somehow keeping himself sitting up straight though he felt like slouching like a little boy. "This farm will become my asset, and I will see to it that it succeeds. The hands will be well paid. Any decisions would be left to your discretion."

Setting down her knife, Bella fitfully dried her hands on her apron, staring at some space above his head. Her face was flushed, but that could have been the heat in the kitchen. "Are you bribing me?" she asked softly.

Edward's eyes darted to hers, seeing that she looked wary. Wary... but not entirely opposed. "I am presenting a mutually beneficial solution."

Her eyes shot skyward, and Edward realized how that might sound. Some men considered that wives were only good for warming their beds and keeping their brats fed. He cursed himself inwardly. Only he could propose to a woman and make her feel like a common whore. "Bella," he said, trying to get her to look at him. She would not, and he sighed. "What I mean to say is, I have a large home that needs looking after - someone to boss around the servants." Edward grinned, thinking that Bella was well suited to that task. "And...I care for you."

Tentative and uncertain, her eyes finally met his.

"I worry for you - what will happen to you here. Jasper cannot hope to provide for you and his son..." He stopped, realizing he was probably babbling. He looked at her steadily. "And I have enjoyed our time together and do not wish it to end."

Edward tried not to notice the way her chest rose and fell rapidly, the skin above her collar as pinked as her cheeks. When she spoke again, her voice shook. "Don't you hear what they say about me? I would not be a good wife. Disobedient, remember? You've said it yourself."

Jasper's voice wafted back to him from the depths of his memory. _Bella? My father'd be fit to be tied. I'd be surprised if her daddy was able to find a husband for her._

Frowning slightly, Edward stood. Her eyes were on him, a little wide like a cat about to start. He walked slowly to stand beside her, extending a hand to touch her cheek. She was trembling beneath his fingers, but she stood her ground. "Those men who want obedient wives are foolish. You challenge me. Perhaps you would not be a good wife for them, but for me..." He drew the pads of his fingers down her cheek, running a thumb over her full lips.

Knowing he was being highly inappropriate - she was not his wife, nor had she consented to become so - Edward took a step away. He picked up her hand instead and brought it to his lips, kissing her soft skin. "You don't have to answer now. There is still time before I leave."

Because he wasn't able to help himself, he brushed a tendril of hair out of her eyes. Then he forced himself to walk out the door, pretending his heart wasn't threatening to thunder out of his chest.

**~0~**

Late in the afternoon, Edward took a break from his duties, seeking out the solace of a spot he'd found days before down by the river. He soaked his kerchief in the cool water, sitting with his back against a sturdy oak and relaxing as best as he was able in the sweltering heat. Closing his eyes, he drowsed.

He was alone for only minutes before quick footfalls alerted him that someone was approaching. When he opened his eyes, Bella stood with her hands on her hips, staring out over the water. She looked perturbed, her mouth set in a hard line, and Edward stayed still, waiting for her to tell him off.

She opened her mouth, huffed, and closed it again before she finally spoke. "There is not much time to decide before you leave. There is much to do. I would need to hire several hands and choose a foreman. That takes time, Edward. I realize you know nothing of running a place like this, but it's not something I can just up and walk away from."

"Bella," Edward called, halting the steady flow of words from her mouth.

She looked at him, her eyes betraying her nerves. She bit her lip, wringing her hands fitfully.

"Why do you need to choose a foreman?" he asked.

She breathed in through her nose, still looking at him steadily though her expression became shy. "A foreman would know enough to make most day to day decisions that I will not be able to make... if I am to live so far away in the North."

It was only with the great effort that Edward kept the exultant grin off his face. He felt giddy as a school boy - nervous, but suddenly very happy. "Come here," he requested softly, extending a hand toward her.

Haltingly, Bella took a few steps toward him and took his hand, letting him steady her as she knelt by his side. He studied her expression carefully, running his fingers over her cheek as he had that morning, allowing himself to hope that it would soon not be so inappropriate to touch her. "Tell me this is what you want, Bella. Not because you feel you have no choice. We can figure something out if this is not what you want."

She chuffed lightly. "It is, as you said, a mutually beneficial arrangement." She looked up at him, searching. "You like that I speak my mind, don't you? I mean - you knew that about me?"

He nodded. "I enjoy that about you."

She looked down at her hands. "Women have so few choices. You said you worried for me, and I understand why that is. I would venture to guess that most women in my position wouldn't hesitate to consent to your agreement. It is so much better than what many have resorted to since their husbands did not come home from the war."

"I want you to have a choice," Edward said firmly.

Her smile was small and genuine. "What I am trying to say is... if I'd had a choice, it would have been you. When I was a child... before..." She sighed. "Well, before everything, I daydreamed of that one kiss we shared," she admitted, her face flushed pink. She dropped her gaze bashfully. "You don't know how often I imagined you would come back for me. And that part of me wishes that I could bring more than debt to a marriage."

He took her hand, squeezing tightly, raising his her fingers to his lips again. "Wealth is something I have in spades, my dear." He considered her words. "You said that part of you wants this... wants me. And the other part of you?"

For a split second, he saw the furtive look in her eyes before she looked down, picking at threads on her dress with the hand that was not held in his. "The other part of me has seen enough to know that even the most charming man is different behind closed doors."

Edward sat up straighter, furrowing his eyebrows. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying... there is much I don't know about you, Edward. There is much you don't know about me. I want to believe you are truly as gentle and kind as you seem... and that is the way you would treat your wife. But I cannot know for certain what kind of husband you will be," she said to her lap. "Nor can I know what my life will be like in your world."

Edward let that hang between them for long moments, torn between outrage and disgust. Had he ever shown her anything besides gentleness? Certainly, he'd skirted the line of appropriateness, but he'd been a goodly gentleman, if not a perfect one.

Before he spoke, Edward tried to see things as a woman might - as Bella might.

There was truth to what she was saying, about how husbands treated their wives and about how few choices women had. It had not escaped his notice that women were spoken of as property, first of their father's and then their husband's. He himself had pointed out that if they married, the farm would become his automatically, and though he knew that he would let her run it as she saw fit, she had no guarantee of that.

He suspected that in addition to her worries about her family's property, she also knew what being married meant, what was expected of her.

Grimacing, Edward remembered Rosalie and what Royce thought he was entitled to even before they were married.

Once they were married there was not even the threat of social stigma in how a man treated his wife, as long as he stuck to the rule of thumb. Bella's body would be his to do with as he liked. He wasn't naive. He knew well what some men did with their wives. Women might be bidden to be silent, but bruises spoke volumes.

Once, during the war, he'd had occasion to spend the Christmas season at a fellow soldier's home in Washington, D.C.. He'd woken during the night, concerned that he heard a woman crying. He'd stepped out of his room to find his friend pressing his wife against the wall, his hands hiking up her dress while she begged and pleaded for him to stop, that she did not want him to do what he was about to. "You are my wife," the man had snarled in her ear, "and I will have you when and where I please."

It had infuriated him, but there was nothing he could do. Given the birthrate and simple common sense, he had to assume that his former friend was not alone. Personally, Edward could never have made love to a woman who was sobbing and begging for him to stop, but Bella couldn't know that.

He tugged lightly on her hand. "Please come here," he murmured, and he was relieved when she let him guide her so she was sitting on his lap. Putting one arm around her to support her back, Edward tilted her chin up with his free hand so she could see the sincerity in his eyes. "Bella, I cannot promise you that you will never see my fits of temper. What I can promise you is that I would rather die than raise a hand to you. And I would kill anyone who threatened you."

He took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "My parents have brought me up to consider women as treasures and my wife as a partner, not a possession. My father raised neither hand nor voice to my mother in all the years they were together."

He ran the back of his knuckles tenderly over her cheek. "Here and now, I swear to you, I will not press you to do anything against your wishes. Ever." He ran his fingers over her chin, tapping lightly. "Do you understand what I'm telling you?"

Slowly, she nodded, meeting his eyes. Her lips parted, as if she wanted to say something, but she seemed, for once, rather tongue tied.

Cupping her cheek, he looked at her intently, his voice soft and remarkably calm though his emotions were anything but. "This is what you want. Truly?" he verified.

She nodded again, her arms tightening around his shoulders. "Yes," she said, the word just a whisper. "This is what you want? Truly?"

He let the grin he'd been holding back spread slowly until he was sure his face might crack. "Yes," he murmured. "Yes, this is what I want." He stroked her cheek again, his tone becoming even softer. "You are what I want."

It may have been true that he had no idea what kind of life he could offer her. Perhaps he knew nothing else, but he knew he wanted her by his side. He didn't want to wait until his affairs were in order. He didn't want to have to be without her again.

This time, he would act without stopping to consider the common sense of the situation.

Tilting his head down so his face was very near hers, he felt a giddy laugh build at the center of his chest and bubble over. "You'll marry me, Miss Swan?"

Her lips tugged up, and she tittered, too. "Yes," she answered.

Edward could not remember a time when he had been as happy as he was at that moment. He felt excited as a little boy and gladly would have hopped to his feet, whooping and hollering in joy.

Her slight weight on his lap, her shy but smiling face so close to his, had the effect of tempering his reactions. Closing the small distance between them, he pressed the first of many kisses ever so gently to her upturned lips. He was pleased when she readily melted against him, her hand cupping his neck as her lips moved with his, tentative at first, then more boldly. Their kiss was unhurried - the slow, steady promise to be gentle with each other.

Sweet first kisses that prefaced and promised the rest of their lives.

He hoped she could understand in his kiss more than his words could ever say that he cherished her. He would always cherish her.

There, under the peacefulness of a sturdy oak tree on an outrageously hot Texas day, Edward finally began to hope that life could again be good.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Ah! **

**So, thank you to barburella and special thanks to TwilightMundi. Much love to all of you. Thanks for bearing with me and again, I'd like to apologize about the review reply situation. Sigh. I am bad. And I love you all.**

****What will Jasper have to say about all this? ****


	9. Tomorrow Is Another Day

They sat for a time under the oak tree by the river simply acclimating to each others touch.

Though he shouldn't have been surprised, Edward was startled when Bella moved her hands to stroke his cheek. It was another notion of the upper class that ladies should be frigid. A woman showing any physical affection more than a chaste kiss was enough to set vicious tongues wagging amongst the blue bloods Edward had grown up around. Frigidity was thought to be more ladylike. The idea that women could find men touchable was a middle class notion.

For just a moment, Edward entertained the thought that Bella may have had a beau before him. It wasn't out of the realm of possibility. She was very pretty, and he couldn't be the only man who'd enjoyed spending time in her company.

He pushed that thought to the side almost instantly. After all, to ask a woman of her physical past after he'd proposed would be unforgivably crass and rude. And Edward would be lying if he didn't acknowledge the rush of possessive anger he felt. If there were others in her past, it was better they remain nameless and faceless, lest he feel the need to punish anyone who dared think of his fiancee that way.

Besides, his mother had been quite demonstrative toward his father behind closed doors. If he could find the same tender devotion his parents had shared, he would be a very happy man indeed.

It seemed to him more likely that this was just one more societal rule that Bella chose to flout. The way her eyes flicked to him nervously, gauging his reaction as she touched him tentatively, gave credence to that theory.

He made a mental note to speak to her later about how they could behave in public. While he thought he would welcome her kisses and touches any time, any day, being the center of gossip would not make her life easy.

For now, though, he reveled in her touch, placing his hand over hers on his cheek as he smiled softly at her. She smiled back at him and pressed a tiny, shy kiss to his lips before she pulled back.

Dropping her hands to settle against his chest, Bella sighed and looked away furtively.

"Is there something wrong?" Edward asked gently, running his finger under her chin.

Bella grimaced, looking up at him. "If I had known you wanted to marry me, I may have been more biddable."

Edward threw back his head and laughed. "You are welcome to try, of course," he mused.

She made a face at him. "Well, I don't want you to think I'm demanding." She looked down, worrying her fingers about the top button of his shirt. "I would like to ask you for two favors, though."

"Anything," he said softly, tilting her chin up so he could kiss her again. "There is nothing I can think of that I wouldn't give you." He knew he was being vaguely ridiculous, but he was caught in the moment, enamored and thrilled at the idea of taking a wife.

"They aren't favors for me, really, but for Jasper," she said carefully.

Edward paused, a little startled. "What of Jasper?" he asked, keeping his tone even.

"Well, the first is more for Peter." A worried, pained look came over her face. "Without me, who will care for him?"

Pursing his lips, Edward considered the issue, slightly ashamed that he hadn't thought of it before. Of course there were repercussions to uprooting a life. He'd stopped to consider whether or not she would want to leave, but not who would be hurt if she did choose to go with him. It may have been true that Peter was not Bella's responsibility, but he understood why she was concerned.

His heart gave a little twist. Though he'd only known the boy a short time, he would miss Peter dearly.

"I will speak to Jasper," he said after a moment. "If he is amenable, you may hire a nanny for Peter." He wasn't sure that Jasper would be receptive, but he could offer.

Bella's smile was genuine. "Then just one more thing," she said softly, speaking slowly. "Edward... Jasper has no surviving family. If ever it turns out he has nowhere to go..."

"He will always be welcome in my house," Edward said firmly, understanding what she was asking. "In our house," he amended. He grinned and kissed her chin. "Though, good luck in both pursuits," he said with a chuckle. "Jasper is almost as hard headed as you, my dear. I believe he will refuse both offers."

Her answering smile was broad. "I'll speak to him. He will see reason."

Again, Edward laughed softly, feeling a rush of adoration. He kissed her sweetly before standing, pulling her up with him. "You've much to prepare for, then," he said with a sigh, not wishing leave this intimate space quite yet but knowing they had to return to reality eventually. "And I have chores to attend to before nightfall."

**~TiAD~**

As Edward headed back toward the house, he couldn't help the broad smile that tugged at his lips. It was a pleasing, though somewhat surreal, thought that he was an engaged man returning home to a woman who would soon be his wife. It took him a moment to realize he was swaggering as he walked toward the shed to put his tools away. He was strutting like the cock of the walk.

Shaking his head ruefully, Edward was making a mental list of things yet to be done when he suddenly found himself being propelled backward. Someone had grabbed the back of his shirt, yanking him roughly back a few steps. Edward didn't have time to get his barrings before a fist came at his face. His vision exploded white with pain, and he fell backward, landing on his rear on the dirt. Shaking his head hard to clear it, he looked up to find Jasper glaring down at him, his eyes sparked with livid fury and his hands in fists at his side.

"I told you, if you so much as thought about her in that way -" Jasper began in a growl, but Edward cut him off.

"In what way?" Edward snarled back, climbing quickly to his feet. "I think to secure her family's property and grant the guarantee of a roof over her head and food in her belly? I think to take her from this land that she has no love for, to let her be a lady rather than toil in these fields, roughening her hands like she is a common laborer rather than a woman who deserves so much better than this?"

Furious at his former friend's insinuation, Edward took a threatening step toward him, voicing the suspicions he'd long held. "Are you jealous, Jasper? Is that it? Did you want her for yourself? Or is it just that you'd rather she stay and tend to a child who isn't even hers rather than give her children of her own?"

Jasper's lips curled and he reared back to throw another punch. This time, Edward was ready, having suspected that his words would garner that reaction. He dodged to the side, grabbing Jasper by his wrist and twisting his arm behind his back. They struggled for a moment, but a childhood of wrestling matches with his much brawnier older brother had taught Edward well. He managed to get both of Jasper's arms locked behind his back.

Holding firm as Jasper jerked in his grip, Edward took a deep, calming breath before he spoke. "Believe it or not, and I don't give a damn if you do, I care for her a great deal. She has already made her choice, and you will honor it."

He let Jasper go, pushing him away and tensing his body for a fight. Jasper whirled, his glower enraged, and for a handful of heartbeats, it seemed as if he might go at Edward again. Instead, he turned, heading down the path and out of sight without another word.

**~TiAD~**

"I swear, I didn't mean to tell him," Bella said for what had to be the tenth time.

Edward just smiled, leaning his head back against the chair he rested in. It irritated him to no end that he'd been caught so unawares by Jasper's assault, but he thought the bloodied lip was well worth it to have Bella clucking over him, tenderly dabbing at his wound with a cool rag.

Catching her hand, he tugged her lightly, smiling, though it hurt him to do so. It took her a moment to understand what he wanted, but when she did, she blushed and sat gingerly on his lap.

"I'm sure his reaction would have been the same had we told him together," he said easily.

She pursed her lips, looking displeased, but then she sighed. "Does it hurt?"

"No," he lied, but he suspected his grimace as he tried to smile reassuringly at her gave him away.

A contemplative expression came over her face and she hesitated a moment before she leaned forward, kissing the injured side of his mouth gently. "Is that better?" she asked, blinking at him with innocent eyes.

Edward's breath caught in his throat. He didn't answer right away, but sat up straighter, keeping his arms tight around her. "Yes," he murmured, his voice low. "That feels much better."

Somehow, in that small, pure gesture, something in the air had shifted. This wasn't the sweet atmosphere from that afternoon. The air between them was suddenly sweltering, undulating with heat. It was like standing under the hot Texas sun, except instead of craving the sweet relief of coolness against his skin, there was a calling at his very core that cried for her.

She seemed frozen, her eyes on his, and he wondered if she felt it too - this need.

Her eyes were still open when he kissed her. This was not a soft, sweet kiss as the ones they'd shared beneath the oak tree. This kiss was more ardent, his grip around her tighter. He didn't even care that it hurt to press his lips to hers where he was bruised.

As his mouth worked on hers, Bella whimpered softly, her hands on his chest, fingers winding through the fabric of his shirt and tugging. The sound sapped what little sanity he had left, and he rumbled against her lips, beginning to move his hands from her waist up her side.

With a wild gasp he pulled slightly away from her, leaning far back on the chair. She blinked, looking startled, and began to readjust herself on his lap but froze when he dropped his hands to her waist, holding her still. "I'm sorry," he said quickly, closing his eyes tight and leaning his head against her shoulder. "I am so sorry. That was..." He took a deep breath, trying not to feel her warmth so near him nor think of how soft her skin felt under his hands. He sighed. "That was not appropriate."

She wasn't his wife yet.

Edward thought of Royce King and the ensuing guilt was all he needed to remember the rules of propriety. Bella deserved better than that. He opened his eyes slowly, looking at her contritely. "Will you forgive me?"

For a moment she seemed flustered. She smiled at him uncertainly. "I was not protesting, Edward," she said softly, her voice oddly shy. "However, if it pleases you, then yes, I will forgive you."

His lips twitched. "Well, it was not appropriate," he reiterated. "If nothing else, if I do not respect your honor, I would have to let Jasper do as he would." He grinned, gesturing lightly at his face.

Bella grimaced. "If I'd have known he was going to do that, I'd have gone after him."

Edward shrugged lightly. "I'm not sure I can say I would have done differently if it were Alice in your place. In fact, I'm surprised he's let us alone for the time being. When it comes time for Alice to be engaged, I don't intend to let her betrothed near her without supervision," he said fervently. "He'll be lucky if I let him in the house till they are properly wedded."

He frowned, realizing suddenly that it was entirely possible he would have to face that exact scenario when he got home. He reminded himself again that Alice was not a child, and it was entirely possible she had a beau.

With their father gone and Emmett away, her happiness and welfare would be his responsibility.

"Edward?" Bella asked quietly, and he could hear the tremble of trepidation in her voice. He looked at her, tilting his head curiously. "Will your family approve of a girl like me for you?"

His eyebrows crinkled for a moment before they smoothed out and he smiled gently, resting the back of his hand against her cheek. "My mother will adore you," he said with certainty.

**~TiAD~**

Jasper did come back before it was time for bed. He didn't say more than a few words to Bella. With Edward, he said absolutely nothing, but he did stare menacingly from the sofa until he was sure Edward retreated to his own room for the night.

Days passed in this manner. In the mornings and early evenings, Edward and Bella danced around each other, slowly rewriting their relationship, both trying on roles they weren't entirely used to.

Several times, Bella nearly brushed aside Edward's questions about the farm, about to tell him he needn't be worried only to snap her mouth shut when she realized it was not only his right to ask but her duty to answer. Though he bowed to her better judgment as far as how to proceed, the farm was to become his asset. He noticed too that she was all the more attentive. She fetched him water when he came inside for the day and laid out his shaving things in the morning. She asked about a thousand questions over those days about his likes and dislikes, fretting at the oddest things. She was, she blurted one evening, not particularly good at making men's shirts.

That had perplexed Edward a great deal, as he'd always had his shirts tailored. He told her so, and told her that if it pleased her, he would be glad if she kept the dress and hat makers in business. There would always be plenty of mending to be done, as was the norm in any household, but she needn't make her own clothes if she didn't want to.

This seemed to fluster more than please her, and she began muttering about unnecessary excess. That was when Edward realized there was much he had to tell her before he let her wander in to the lion's den that was Chicago high society. To that point, he hadn't thought much of it. As a man and a blue blood, he was above most reproach. It was beginning to occur to him more and more that his responsibility to protect Bella extended to more than just defending her against any who might harm her physically. He'd seen the way the society ladies treated outsiders. They would be watching her closely.

They were learning to think of themselves as a unit rather than two people alone in the world. Slowly but surely, they were progressing together.

The day before he was go to Houston to settle some business and prepare for their departure, they spoke of Jasper again.

"Have you been able to convince Jasper to let you hire a nanny?" he asked her over dinner. While Jasper made an appearance every evening without fail, he was gone before either of them woke in the morning and no longer ate at Bella's table.

When she didn't answer right away Edward looked up, surprised to find she was wringing her napkin fitfully on her lap, looking very nervous and sad. She held her hand up, begging his indulgence, and turned instead to Peter. "Sugar? If you're done, why don't you go play with your soldiers?" she suggested lightly.

Peter nodded obediently and climbed down from his chair, heading toward the basket in the corner.

Keeping her eyes on him, Bella sighed and spoke softly out of the corner of her mouth. "I did get a chance to speak to Jasper today," she murmured, ducking her head.

Wanting automatically to comfort her, Edward laid his hand palm up on the table in offering. When she put her hand in his, he stroked his thumb over her fingers soothingly. "He refused our help?" he guessed. "Perhaps if I talk to him -"

Bella shook her head. "Actually, he asked a favor." She breathed in, visibly swallowing thickly. "Edward... he's asked if we will take Peter with us to Chicago, if we will take him in as our ward."

Completely flabbergasted, Edward sat back in his chair, dropping his hands to his sides. "What, he cannot ask me himself, but sends you to do his work?" he asked gruffly, reeling at the idea that Jasper could give up his little boy so easily.

Narrowing her eyes slightly, Bella cocked her head. "He would have asked you himself, but I told him to let me speak to you. The only reason he asked me first was because he didn't want to take the choice out of my hands." She grimaced. "He didn't want me to feel burdened with Peter if I didn't want him."

"How considerate of him," Edward said scathingly, his voice dripping with derision. "And if you didn't want him, I suppose he would find some other way to rid himself of the child." His heart ached for Peter, his anger spurned on the boy's behalf.

"No," Bella said sharply, her voice raising a notch. She breathed in through her nose, calming herself before she continued. "Don't you see? Edward, that little boy is Jasper's world. Peter is all he has left of Maria, and he is sending him home with _you, _with a Union soldier."

Edward dropped his gaze, looking over at the little boy playing, oblivious to the fact he was about to be uprooted and torn away from his only remaining parent.

"He is a proud man," Bella continued quietly, "and I'm not sure he is done fighting the war. He is entrusting you with the thing most precious to him because he wants something more for his son than he can hope to provide in his current situation."

She stood and stepped to his side, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Let his actions speak louder than his bitter words," she entreated. There was a pause before she said, "Unless you don't want Peter."

"No," Edward said quickly. "He's a good boy. I had already thought how much I would miss him, how much you would miss him, when we left. If it's what you want, I have no problem caring for him." He chuffed lightly, shaking his head. "I know my mother will be thrilled to have a child in the house again."

"Then you are amenable to the agreement?" she asked softly.

He blew out a long breath, slightly overwhelmed. Just days ago he'd had only himself to worry about. Now he was bringing home a wife and child.

How quickly his life was changing.

Reaching up, Edward wrapped his fingers around Bella's hand on his shoulder, and he tilted his head to smile at her. "This is what you want?" he verified. It would be her business, better or worse, to care for the children in their household - their own included.

She thought over her words before answering. "My heart breaks for Jasper, but I understand his thoughts. And yes, I will admit that the idea of leaving Peter when he has been like my own son these last many months was painful."

"Then yes, I am amenable," Edward answered. He stood, breathing deeply to calm his frazzled nerves. "But I will have to talk to Jasper."

**~TiAD~**

He found the other man by following a light at the barn. Sure enough, Jasper sat on an overturned barrel, bent over a small table, carefully whittling by the light of a kerosene lamp. As Edward came closer, he could see the outline of a wooden soldier, and knew that Jasper was carving another toy for his son.

Though he must have heard him approach, Jasper didn't look up as Edward dragged another barrel from the corner and sat across form him. The two men sat in heavy silence for a time before Jasper let out a long, slow breath.

"I have no intention of abandoning him," he said roughly, not looking up. "It's just... this place, right now, it's no place for a little boy. It's going to be a rough season. I'm out in the fields for long hours, and I don't want him to lose the only other mother he's known when I can't be there for him."

"I understand," Edward said simply and sincerely.

"When the crops come in, I'll be able to reimburse you for whatever -"

"Jasper," Edward interrupted. "I understand."

Jasper lapsed into silence, rolling the unfinished soldier between his fingers.

"I will take care of them," Edward spoke, his voice a promise. "I swear, I will care for them both. They will want for nothing."

Jasper's breath stuttered as he breathed in through his nose and out again. His head jerked in a nod. When he finally looked up, Edward could see what it took for the blond man to ask this favor of him. The raw pain he saw reflected in Jasper's eyes was staggering, and for a moment, Edward's throat closed with emotion.

"Thank you," Jasper said quietly.

If he thought there was any chance he would accept, Edward would have offered to extend Jasper a loan large enough to save his plantation and then some. He knew, though, that it had to be a great blow to his pride to ask for Edward's help at all. Edward could not insult him by making any offer of help beyond that.

Instead, he stood. He put his hand briefly on Jasper's shoulder, hoping the other man understood the gesture. Their friendship had been torn to shreds after four years they'd been made enemies, but Edward hoped the other man understood it was not beyond repair.

As he'd told Bella, his door was always open.

He left Jasper then to his solace.

**~TiAD~**

Edward stared at the words on the telegraph note, blinking sporadically to ensure that they weren't a figment of his imagination.

WILL BE HOME BY THE END OF THE WEEK STOP  
>BRINGING BACK A WIFE AND A TWO YEAR OLD BOY STOP<br>PLEASE MAKE ARRANGEMENTS ACCORDINGLY STOP

Before he could second guess his decisions, Edward handed the slip to the telegraph operator, watching as the man dutifully began tapping out his message.

It was somehow significantly more real now. Even if he wanted to - and he didn't - he could not have backed out of his engagement now. Telling his mother he was bringing home a wife and child was more binding than any vows he would take in the coming days.

Edward paid his fee and wandered out of the telegraph office in a daze.

It was all arranged. Aro Scarpinato had been paid, and Edward honestly hoped he would never so much as hear the man's name again. There were tickets in his pocket that would take Bella, Peter, and himself away from Houston two mornings from that day. The items he'd purchased for the journey were in the wagon along with the gift he'd bought for Bella, and a pair of gold wedding bands.

Walking back to the wagon, he took the bands out of his satchel and stared at them.

They were so simple for what they symbolized. He'd thought to have them inscribed, but couldn't figure what he wanted them to say. His relationship with Bella was so new, any sentiment fell flat.

Yet they were about to vow to love, honor, and cherish each other for the rest of their lives.

It was strange that that idea did not frighten him. Though he still worried about what life he could provide her, with his future so undefined, he had no reservations about their marriage.

He looked around the bustling streets of Houston, at the men and women going about reconstructing their lives. Better or worse, this chapter of his life was over. It was time to return home to his new-old life.

Squaring his shoulders, he climbed into the wagon and urged the horses forward toward the farm, toward Bella.

After all, tomorrow was another day.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: The. End.**

**Just kidding.**


	10. Journey

**A/N: Okay, this is a disclaimer. I know nothing of the official railways and what railroads were where etc etc etc. I tried looking them up, but honestly, it's a lot more research than I'm willing to do for something that doesn't REALLY matter, lol. Just putting that out there for some of you more technically minded people. Sorry!**

* * *

><p>Jasper said little as he drove the wagon to the train station. His mouth, Edward noted, was set in a hard line. The tension Edward felt radiating from the other man's form made him anxious.<p>

Edward almost wanted to apologize, feeling as if he was ripping a man's son and sister away from his arms.

At the station the blond man said nothing, but helped Edward unload the luggage. Bella and Peter were taking relatively little with them. Just three suitcases, a heavy chest, and a crate of books - that was all that two lives amounted to.

Edward hoped again that he could give them the life they both deserved.

They were all quiet. Edward supposed Bella was thinking the same as he was, about what their life together would be like. How frightening it must be for her. She was leaving everything she knew behind while he was going toward the home he'd been too long away from. He kept waiting for her to cry, but she didn't. She hadn't even cried when they visited her father's grave site the day before.

Peter, likely picking up on the heavy atmosphere around him, was also quiet. For much of the trip, he leaned against Jasper, clingy and whimpering softly. When they got to the train station, he held Bella's hand, stuffing the fingers of his other hand into his mouth.

"Peter," Jasper sighed, coming over to him when they'd finished dealing with the luggage. "How many times have I told you not to suck on your fingers like that? It's bad for you."

His lower lip trembling slightly, the little boy took his fingers out of his mouth, staring up at his father with big eyes.

Again Jasper sighed and turned first to Bella. He took her hand, pulling her toward him for a long, tight hug. "I wish you every happiness, Bella. Really."

Bella put a hand on his arm, and Edward took the hint, turning his back to give Jasper what little bit of privacy he could in this crowded station.

Out of the corner of his eye, Edward watched as Jasper knelt in front of his son, keeping his hands on the little boy's shoulders. The blond man took several deep breaths before he spoke. "You're going to be going with Bella and Edward for a little while Peter."

The baby whimpered in distress, and Jasper shushed him gently. "Hush now, baby boy. They're going to take very good care of you, and I expect that you will be on your very best behavior for them."

Peter bleated, his cries getting a little stronger.

"Don't cry," Jasper murmured gently to his son, and Edward could hear his voice getting tight. He swallowed hard, cupping the little boy's cheek. "I promise, I swear to you, I'll come get you as soon as I'm able." His breath stuttered for a moment as he spoke. "It's just better, Peter. It's better for you. Just for a little while."

Peter didn't seem convinced as he threw his arms around his father's neck, crying miserably now.

Jasper held his boy to him, rocking them both back and forth for a moment before he set him down again. He reached into the satchel at his side, drawing out what looked like a fine, gold colored sash.

"Look. Your Momma made this for me before I left for the war. I carried it always. I've never put it down." He tied the sash several times around Peter's waist. "You keep this safe for me, you hear?"

Sniffling, Peter nodded solemnly, and Jasper pulled him close again, hugging him tightly. His hand on the back of the boy's head, Jasper stood, and Edward could see his eyes were closed, his mouth and jaw set, like he was trying to keep his emotions in check. He kissed the side of his son's honey-blond hair, breathing raggedly.

Watching them, Edward's heart ached for his old friend.

Breathing out through his nose and in again deeply, Jasper stepped to Edward, meeting his eyes with a fierce intensity. He offered his hand, and Edward took it, shaking it firmly. "Take care of them," the blond man said, his voice gruff with barely contained emotion.

Edward clasped his other hand over Jasper's. "I swear on my life."

Nodding brusquely, Jasper stepped away from them. He waited until they were all three safely on the train and turned around, heading back home.

Whatever bad blood had existed between them seemed to have dissipated, however grudgingly on Jasper's part. For more than Peter's sake, Edward truly hoped he would see his old friend again.

**~0~**

Edward returned from his walk of the train to find Bella just coming awake in her room. She'd laid down with Peter and fallen asleep herself. Now, though, she was blinking blearily, looking around with a slightly confused expression.

Smiling, Edward sat on the edge of the bed, watching her wake. "Good afternoon, my sweet," he said quietly, not wanting to wake Peter.

"Afternoon?" she mumbled, sitting up.

"Just after, actually," he murmured, reaching out to smooth her hair back. The bun she'd had it in had long come undone.

"I'm sorry," she said, shifting to sit beside him. "I didn't mean to sleep that long."

"Don't apologize. I'm glad you got some rest." Propping his fingers under her chin, he gently tilted her face up, leaning down to kiss her softly. "I'm happy you're awake now, though. There are some things I wish to discuss."

Bella sat up straighter, looking at him questioningly.

Taking her hands, he looked at her steadily. "Are you positive you don't wish to have a ceremony? I'm in no rush, Bella. My mother would throw us the wedding of the decade. You may have a fine gown... anything you'd like."

Looking down, Bella pursed her lips for a moment before she spoke. "Is that what you want?"

He squeezed her fingers. "I want you to be happy. I know this must be jarring, moving away from all you've known."

"Thank you for your kindness," she murmured. "But I have no desire to be the talk of the town." She frowned slightly. "Will your mother be upset?"

Cocking his head, Edward thought about this possibility. "I don't believe so. There is no shortage of parties in my world. She would want you to be comfortable." He brushed the back of his knuckles over her cheek tenderly. "Frankly, if she did not approve, it would not matter. What I care about is your happiness."

Her tight smile seemed to relax infinitesimally at that, and she put her hand over his against her cheek. "I thought we would be married before we left Houston, honestly."

Edward's lips twitched downward, and he sighed. "Would that I could have arranged it. I tried three different churches when I was in town two days ago. The priests were not very receptive." He did not tell her he'd stopped looking when one man politely suggested he get the hell out of his church before he had time to reload his gun. "If you really don't wish to wait, I think it's best that we try in St. Louis. That was the other thing I wanted to talk to you about."

"Yes?" Bella asked, cocking her head.

"I was thinking it might be nice, rather than continue on by train from St. Louis, to travel by boat. It would be a little slower, but, as I am assuming you haven't seen that part of the country..."

"I haven't," she said with a smile. "We actually came from the west via wagon. I don't recall ever being on a boat longer than to cross the river." She tapped her finger against her lips. "You've already told your family you would be coming by the end of the week," she pointed out.

Grinning impishly at her, he kissed her nose playfully. "So I misjudged by a number of days. Perhaps my mathematics skills suffered these last years." He kissed her again, more seriously now. "Besides, it is the only honeymoon we shall have for the time being."

Her eyes found his, and he could see a flutter of nerves there, but also, they seemed a shade darker, deepening with the red flush of her cheeks. Her breath stuttered, warm on his lips just before she leaned in to kiss him.

In so many ways, Edward felt tangled up and foolish during these intimate moments with Bella. With her, he found the stage he seemed to have missed from his teenage years, the new, giddy exhilaration of being allowed to touch soft, feminine skin. Her mouth moving with his made him outrageously, perhaps unreasonably, happy.

He felt not unlike an idiot, and yet he was ecstatic. For four years he'd lived in a world that vacillated between back and white - not unlike photographs where everyone looked still and dour, their lives caught and captured in an uncomfortably stiff pose - and angry shades of violence - rivers of blood run crimson, flashes of fire, and black, billowing smoke from the cannons. Bella was all the colors in between, their vivid hues varied, vibrant, and full of life. The titillation made him excited.

Finding his hands had placed themselves splayed flat against her back, pulling her up against him, Edward thought perhaps he was a little too excited. He broke their kiss, ducking his head as he tried to catch his breath.

"Ah," he clucked, chagrined. He let his hands drop to her waist, holding her in a loose grip. "Forgive me. I forget myself."

"We are promised," she said gently. "You have no need to worry about Jasper's reaction now."

Smirking slightly, Edward raised his head to look at her. "Why, Miss Swan. How scandalous."

Shy, she bowed her head slightly and looked up at him from under her eyelashes. "I don't mean to speak out of turn," she murmured quietly. "What I mean is that, though we may pledge ourselves before God in a few days, I am yours today as much as then."

Edward's breath wheezed in his throat and dissipated. At the center of his chest an emotion welled so tender and consuming that it caught him completely by surprise.

As yet inexperienced in such things, Edward didn't know if he could call what he felt for Bella love. Certainly there was a great fondness that seemed to reside in the very core of his being, as if she'd carved out a niche and rested very near his heart. More than proud, the idea that she'd consented to be his wife made him incredibly joyous - more happy than he knew how to articulate. He genuinely enjoyed her company. As was becoming, yet again, painfully obvious, his body longed for hers as well.

But did he love her?

When she spoke those words, so soft and shy, yet earnest, the words, "I love you" hovered on the tip of Edward's tongue. They didn't feel uncomfortable, but he wondered if it was a silly thing to think.

Bella was above all, a logical woman. She hadn't used flowery words with him. She had already given over her property and home to him as her husband. Her body was a foregone conclusion - just part of the deal.

A hint of disquiet permeated his happiness, and he wished yet again that his father were still alive so that he might discuss the magic of love versus the business of marriage. Carlisle had been fond of his books, often lamenting that neither of his boys had much patience for prose and poetry.

Cupping Bella's cheek, Edward sorely wished for a sonnet or a pretty line. This was, he imagined, what came of skipping the courtship part of a relationship. Still, her words warmed him, and he knew he cared for and wanted her. What he felt for her was a soft, tender thing, and he had no trouble expressing physically what he didn't yet have the words to define.

He kissed her lips softly, his fingers moving through her hair, gently loosing it from the remnants of the pins that held it loosely gathered together. He sighed against her mouth, breathing her in even as he moved his lips with hers. Her fingers were light against the back of his neck, her other hand cupped around his elbow.

Breaking their kiss, he brushed his lips across the bridge of her nose, and then ran the tip of his nose along her cheek-line, breathing in her scent.

Opening his eyes, he chuckled, startled when he looked over her shoulder to find little Peter had awoken and was staring at them curiously, ever silent.

"You are mine as I am yours," he promised, twining their hands together and bringing her fingers to his lips. "However, the point is moot, it seems," he said, nodding over her shoulder.

Bella twisted and laughed a little breathlessly when she saw Peter climbing to his knees. "Hey, sugar. You're awake."

He cocked his head and patted his tummy indicating he was hungry. Edward didn't blame him. The poor little boy had only picked at breakfast.

Edward offered Peter his hand. "Come on, buddy. Let's see what there is to eat."

**~0~**

Though Edward worried endlessly about how good a husband he would be, at least he knew for certain he could provide for his new family. That was the best part, he supposed, of coming from old money. The train ride had been more than comfortable, as they had a car to themselves. Now, they enjoyed a first class cabin on a rather grand steamboat headed north on the Mississippi.

Edward approached the master suite slowly, wondering what the decorum was in the situation. There were plenty of superstitions that revolved around weddings. He thought they were nonsense, but how could he be sure Bella didn't abide by some or all of them?

He knocked on the door before he entered, and when he did not hear a protest, he stepped into the room.

Bella sat at the room's vanity, her long hair loose and flowing down her back. Edward felt a smile spread across his face. She was so lovely.

It took him a moment to realize she was staring at the mirror with what appeared to be disdain.

"Is there something wrong?" he asked softly, stepping to her side. He spared a smile for Peter, chuckling lightly because the boy was picking through hair bobs and studying pins. He tilted his head, watching Bella for a moment before trying to skewer his own hair with a pin.

Bella blew out a long, slow breath. "Nothing. I just feel very out of place here, among all these fine things."

"Out of place?" Edward repeated, perplexed.

Seeming self conscious, Bella tugged at the sleeves of the simple but lovely dress she wore. "Everything I own is so frayed. I didn't realize before."

Edward pursed his lips. The world was frayed and shabby, but he knew enough about women not to make such remarks when they were feeling less than beautiful. Instead, he took her hair in his hands, gathering it up first into a tail before winding it on her head. He knew nothing of women's hairstyles. He doubted he could manage to do anything with it, but he liked being able to touch her like this.

"There was a woman in port who wore her hair just so," he murmured. "I thought the style might look quite lovely on you." Ducking his head, he kissed first her neck and then a trail up to her ear, his lips turning up when her breath stuttered. "Though, to be honest, Bella, when I walked in here you had me breathless. Your beauty, it seems, is inherent."

Bella bowed her head, but he could see she was smiling.

"When we get to Chicago, I'm sure my mother and sister will know more than I about the latest women's fashions. They will help you update your wardrobe." He let her hair drop back down her back, pressing the back of his knuckles to her cheek. "But never forget, your husband thinks you beautiful no matter what you wear."

"You're too kind to me," Bella said in a whisper, and Edward laughed.

"The captain is ready, but take your time." He stood straight and went to Peter, sweeping the little boy up into his arms. "Come, Peter. Would you like to see the wheelhouse? That's where the captain steers the ship."

Peter nodded enthusiastically, reaching down to place the pin in his hand haphazardly in Bella's hair. She chuckled and thanked him.

"Bella," Edward said before he left. "Are you sure you won't accept help from one of the ladies' servants?"

She quirked an eyebrow at him. "I will manage on my own," she said softly. "I'm almost ready."

"As you wish," he said with a smile. He knew she still found it odd - the idea of people waiting on her. Though she'd grown up with a nanny, her father had never employed as many servants as most of his neighbors.

His own home was never lacking for servants. It was something she would have to get used to, he mused.

**~0~**

It was only a half an hour later that they were both ready.

Bella seemed as nervous as he felt. That was natural, he suspected, but he thought he also saw a hint of sadness. Gesturing to the captain to give them a moment, he led Bella off to a quiet corner.

"If you are unsure -" he began, but she cut him off.

"No. I've never been more certain of anything in my life, strangely," she said with a small laugh. "It's just that this is a little surreal. How could I have ever planned for this?" She looked down at their joined hands, running her thumb over his fingers. "I wish I understood why you chose me."

"For so many reasons," he murmured intently. "You are the only part of my life that makes sense, and I wish to see to it that I will never lose you." He cupped her cheek, smiling at her so she could see that he was indeed content - happy. Then he stepped to the side, offering his arm. "Shall we?"

Bella took a deep breath and threaded her arm through his, smiling back at him. "Yes. I'm ready."

**~0~**

Edward sat on the bed, waiting for Bella to come back from settling Peter in his room.

He was a married man.

As much peace as the title gave him, he was also very nervous. It was his wedding night. He knew what was expected of him.

It went without saying that he wanted her. Since the time during the storms when he stumbled across her, half nude in the moonlight, not a night went by that he didn't imagine what it would be like to touch her, to have her under him and around him.

Obviously, he knew the mechanics of sex, but he'd only been with women who earned a living from spreading their legs. He couldn't think of Bella so crassly. It may have been her duty, but Edward wanted to believe that it could be at least pleasant for her.

He'd never made love to a woman, only used one toward his own selfish gain.

He wanted to know he wouldn't come off as the brute Bella feared, but as much as he knew he would die before he would hurt her, he also knew if she was a virgin, it was inevitable. The thought both displeased and scared him a bit, if he was being honest.

The door to their room opening distracted Edward from his thoughts.

"Hello," Bella murmured, standing at the door briefly. Her voice was a little thin, and he could see her chest was rising and falling faster than normal.

"Peter's asleep?" he verified.

She nodded, stepping behind a screen. He could hear the rustle of clothes being removed and felt the familiar stirrings below waist. He swallowed hard.

"Yes, he's fast asleep. Poor baby. He still cries for his father at night," Bella said as she came out from behind the partition, clothed now in only a nightgown. She seemed to hesitated for a moment before she sat at the vanity, beginning to take her hair down.

For a moment, Edward just watched her, his heart pounding fast and hard against his ribs. Standing, he crossed to her, not oblivious to the fact her hand wavered in its task as he got closer. He stood behind her, his hand against her neck, feeling the thrum of her pulse beneath his fingertips.

It almost felt as though their hearts were beating in unison, but he thought he must have been imagining it.

Stooping, he kissed her tenderly at the corner of her forehead, letting his lips linger.

Setting down her brush, she turned to him, her trembling hand cupping his cheek as her lips found his. They were both slightly breathless though their kiss had just begun.

His hands on her arms, he tugged lightly and she stood, wrapping her arms around his waist.

It struck him then, the power of what was happening. She had already entrusted him with her life and happiness. Now, she was giving over her body with absolute faith in him.

He could see in her eyes. She was nervous, but she wasn't afraid.

He was. Afraid that he couldn't be the husband she deserved. It seemed only minutes ago this had all been a beautiful dream. It hadn't been so long ago, he remembered watching Bella with Peter and thinking it would be nice if she were his wife, and the child in her arms was theirs.

Now, half of that vision had come to pass, and soon, as it had been since the beginning of time, the other half would follow. His throat closed, the enormity of the journey he'd just begun hitting him hard. It well could be that they could spark a life that very night.

With a long, slow breath, he drew her up against him, holding her close as they both sat on the bed. "Bella," he began, stroking her cheek. "Would it... I..." He huffed and laid back, bringing her with him. "I would like to hold you. Is that alright?"

She looked at him, seeming a little perplexed in the low light from the dying candles. "Of course," she murmured, slipping her hand into his hair.

Relieved, and a little embarrassed, he gathered her in his arms, pulling her body against his and burying his nose at her neck. For long minutes, he simply breathed her in, feeling her heart begin to slow from its erratic pace. He too felt calmer with her arms wrapped around him and her body tucked against his. She said nothing, but stroked the hair at the back of his neck.

That was how they spent their first night, tangled tightly together, hands moving slowly over their backs and necks until they fell asleep.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thank you to my lovely girls. I love you. Mwah**

**As for y'all, of course I wasn't gonna leave it at the last chapter. Much to do, much to do. **


	11. Home

The Illinois River at approaching dusk was beautiful but not so much as the woman who stood at the railing, looking out over the water.

To Edward, this woman was the epitome of loveliness. Her form was slender, the line of her body slim until it hit the full skirt of her simple blue dress. Her hair was done up in a bun, on which was perched that hat he'd bought her at the last stop. As she leaned over the rail, looking out over the land, he had a sudden inkling to rise from where he was and kiss the bare skin at the back of her neck.

He remained where he was, laying on the lounge chair on the deck, enjoying watching her when she didn't know she was being watched.

Except this time, it was allowable.

He could watch her when and where he wished for she was his wife.

He had to repeat that fact to himself several times a day, yet sometimes he still didn't believe it.

So he watched as she leaned down, pulling Peter up into her arms and standing with him, pointing out something at the shoreline.

Edward was pulled from his most favored pastime by light snickering off to his left. He glanced, and sure enough, two other women were sitting, their heads bent together and their eyes on Bella. He tightened his arms across his chest, irritation quickly replacing his warmer thoughts.

What was it this time, he wondered.

He didn't think Bella was as oblivious as she pretended to be. He'd noticed she'd taken to wearing the two dresses she owned that could be worn with hoops. They were, as she'd noted on their wedding night, well worn and likely many years out of fashion, but they were what she had.

Once, several days before, she'd been walking to meet him in the dining area, when another woman had rudely remarked - loud enough that Bella could overhear - that the boat's officials were sub par, having let someone from steerage attend their dining time and area. Edward had made a point of introducing himself - and his wife - to the woman and her husband a short time later.

Though she'd merely smiled politely at the time, since that day, Edward had not seen her in the dresses he was used to her wearing - those comfortable and practical for life back on the farm.

So though Edward would have thought she was lovely no matter what she wore, the women sitting near him were likely taking in the stark contrast from her frayed clothing to the fancy, very modern bonnet she wore.

Or perhaps it was the baby in her arms.

It was rare for an upper class family to travel without a small army of servants, and rarer still for a mother to be so attached to her child. Edward had received more than one offer from the steerage passengers to watch Peter for a small sum, but both he and Bella felt much more comfortable having the little boy close. He was still quite clingy and frightened, though he seemed to be growing more at ease.

There was, he knew, no small amount of gossip about the ship about the nature of their relationship, who the blond little boy belonged to - he looked nothing like either of them - and how someone like Bella came to be with someone like him.

It was ridiculous and slightly maddening. His clothes were no finer than hers. It wasn't as though he'd marched off to war with more than his uniform. Yet he seemed to escape the derisive, scathing looks.

Before he found himself in trouble - yelling at a lady was not polite, regardless of how rude she was - Edward stood and went to Bella. She started when he put his hand to her waist, but soon melted back against him, a smile on her lips.

"Mr. Cullen," she murmured, a little surprised when he dipped to kiss her neck as he'd wanted to. "People will talk."

She was rather demure in public, not as demonstrative as she was in private, which both pleased and disappointed him. On the one hand, it would be easier for her, because he knew her time amongst the blue bloods of Chicago would not be without difficulty. Still, he wished they could kiss as ardently as they pleased whenever the pleased.

Today, though, he could care less if the women on deck were scandalized by his behavior. In another day, he would never have to see them again.

"Let them talk," he murmured, tilting his head down to catch her lips.

Peter found it all very funny, and the sound of his laughter made Edward smiled as he kissed Bella a little more politely.

Keeping his arm at her waist, he stepped to her side, enjoying that she automatically leaned in against him now. They were, by and by, getting much more accustomed to each other.

Bella breathed in the night air deeply. "It's such a difference from Texas. The air here is sweet and cool at night. Even at the worst heat, it is not so oppressive," she observed.

"Mmm," Edward hummed his agreement. "Have you enjoyed traveling?"

"I have liked seeing other places very much," she said softly.

He tilted his head, raising his free hand to brush the back of her cheek. "I will take you anywhere you wish, you know," he said, his voice low but fervent. "Perhaps in a year or two, we will travel abroad. Would that please you?"

"I..." she stumbled, her eyelashes fluttering. She had that look in her eyes that she sometimes got when she was about to speak her mind, and she was worried she might displease him. "I have enjoyed our time," she hedged.

"However..." he prompted.

The corner of her mouth turned down slightly, and she ducked her head, kissing the top of Peter's crown. "Right now, I wish to find my home before I think of leaving it," she said quietly.

His heart twisted, and again he wondered at her strength. He kissed her cheek tenderly, lingering for a moment more than was proper. "I hope so much you will be happy with me," he whispered on a sigh.

She slipped her arm around him. "I believe I will be."

~0~

As the carriage drew them closer to the heart of Chicago, Bella got more quiet. She was biting her lip with a vengeance, folding her gloved hands together over and over.

Carefully, he unwound her fingers from their tight grip on her handkerchief and squeezed her hand comfortingly.

She glanced at him and made an attempt to calm down, breathing in through her nose and back out again.

"There," he said on a breath, pointing out the carriage window. With all the devastation he'd seen, and the long journey it took to get here, Edward had almost believed that he would never see his childhood home again.

By the time the carriage pulled to a stop, Edward was nearly bouncing out of his skin. He hopped down to the ground quickly, reaching up to take Peter in his arms. He set the little boy on firm ground. Peter quickly wrapped himself around Edward's leg, looking about nervously. Edward spared a moment to ruffle the boy's head before he put his hands on either side of Bella's waist, helping her down from the carriage.

Bella's eyes were on the manor before her, her lips slightly parted as she took in the design.

"It's not as big by half as Jasper's old plantation," he remarked.

"Perhaps not," Bella murmured. "But it is quite palatial and grand in its own right."

At that he smiled and offered her his arm.

Before she could take it though, there was a commotion from the front of the house. "Edward! Oh! Mother, Mother it is him!" Edward looked up to see his sister, her long, jet black hair a mass of curls bobbling wildly, running at him.

He was running before he could think about it, crossing through the gate to the meet Alice at the middle of the courtyard. "Alice," he cried as she leaped, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him so tightly he could barely breathe.

Edward was so happy, he didn't care. He hugged her back just as tightly. "Little sister. It's so good to see you."

Alice laughed, the sound a joyous tittering, and something in Edward's heart healed, hearing it. The last time he'd seen his sister, when their father had died, there was little laughter to be had.

Their reunion was interrupted by the sound of his mother's voice. Again, Edward's heart lurched in his chest, and he might have fallen to his knees weeping except he was desperate to hug his mother again.

"Edward. My God, Edward," Esme gasped, holding his face between her hands. "Are you really here?"

"I'm home, Mother," he murmured, wrapping his arms around her and burying his face at her neck like he were a small boy again.

Crying, Esme threw herself into a whole-hearted hug before she pulled back. "Oh, mercy! Edward. Am I hurting you? Aren't you wounded? I'm so sorry, my boy."

"No," Edward said quickly. "Really. I'm fine. Bella..." He cut off abruptly, his eyes going wide. "My, God!" He whirled around guiltily, finding Bella had crept closer with Peter in her arms, and she was watching them with shining eyes.

"My dear," he said, going to her side . "I am incredibly sorry."

"It's alright," she demurred.

"No, no it is not," Esme said, wiping away her tears and stepping up to them. "I'm sorry, dear one. We forgot our manners."

"Bella, this is my mother, Esme Cullen, and my sister, Alice Cullen," Edward introduced, wrapping his arm around Bella's waist. He stroked her back soothingly. "Mother, Alice, this is my wife," he said softly, pride leaking into his tone, "Isabella Cullen."

Smiling warmly, Esme took and clasped Bella's free hand in both of hers. "How very nice to meet you." Her grin widened as she looked to the little boy in her arms. "Well, who is this handsome young man?"

"This is Peter Jasper Whitlock," Bella introduced softly. Peter ducked his head shyly, hiding his face against Bella's neck.

"Hello, young Mr. Whitlock," Esme said gently, and Peter rolled his head slightly to look at her.

"Aren't you the most precious thing," Alice cooed. Reaching out, she twirled a lock of hair around her finger.

"Anyway, as I was saying. I am mended now," Edward murmured, squeezing Bella lightly. "Bella took very good care of me."

"Well," Esme said, dabbing at her eyes with her handkerchief. "Let's leave the luggage to Seth and go inside."

"Seth?" Edward echoed, falling into step with one arm around his wife and the other around his sister, tilting his head. "Little Seth?"

Esme's smile was wane. "Little is not a precise word any longer," she murmured, nodding in the direction of the house.

When Edward was about fifteen, he came across a young Indian boy trying to buy groceries for his family. Though the boy was only young, perhaps eight at the time, the grocer was pushing him out of the establishment.

Tearfully, Seth had explained the problem to Edward who took the boy by the hand and went with him to get the things he needed, glaring at the grocer, daring him with his eyes to say a word. The man had glowered but kept his tongue.

Since then, Seth had followed Edward more faithfully than a little dog, looking up to him like he was a hero. Carlisle, taking pity on the lad's situation, had started out paying him to help the gardener with the weeds. When Edward left for West Point, he'd been learning how to care for the horses.

Now, this same boy had grown so he looked to be an inch or two taller than Edward. If it weren't for the broad, excited grin that sparked when the boy saw him, Edward might not have recognized him.

"Edward!" he said excitedly, and then seemed to remember himself. He cleared his throat and bowed slightly. "I mean. Mr. Cullen, welcome home."

"Thank you, Seth," Edward said, nodding at him.

"Seth, darling. Please see that the luggage is taken to the appropriate rooms," Esme asked.

"Yes, ma'am," Seth said, nodding again. He offered Edward one more grin before he loped off to retrieve their luggage.

Turning back to the house, Edward was quiet for a moment, wondering what else had changed.

~0~

Afternoon turned into evening before Edward was finally leading Bella and Peter on a tour of the house. He saved the hall where their bedroom was at for last seeing as Peter's eyes were drooping. He clutched the little cloth doll Alice had made for him even as he laid his sleepy head on Bella's shoulder.

Entering the room that had once been Rosalie's, for the time she stayed with them, Edward found that the space had been transformed. It was a small boy's paradise now, and Edward thought he recognized the train set in one corner as being Emmett's, at one time.

It got Peter's attention for sure. He raised his head, his tired eyes wide. He patted Bella on the shoulder and pointed excitedly.

"It's very grand, isn't it, sugar?" Bella murmured, looking around the room with a smile. She turned to Esme and Alice who watched from the doorway. "I don't know how to thank you."

"Oh, honey," Esme said with a wave of her hand.

Smiling, Edward backed out of the room, wanting to see that his old room had been converted to be comfortable for them both. He was unquestionably nervous, wanting badly for Bella to be pleased by her new home.

He peered into his old room only to be startled.

Nothing was as he remembered it. This space didn't look like his at all.

He turned and found his mother had followed him out into the hallway. "Mother, my room, I mean our room..."

"That is the guestroom," his mother said gently. "Your room is at the end of the hallway."

Edward blinked, not quite understanding. It was true, he'd been long gone from home, but he was sure he knew where his bedroom was. "That's your room," he argued lightly.

Esme chuckled and smiled at him. "You are the man of this house, Edward. The master bedroom should be yours. You didn't expect to keep yourself and your wife in your old room, did you?"

"It's more than adequate," he insisted, not liking the idea of kicking his mother out of the space that had always been hers. "Besides, where will you go?"

"I am an old widowed woman. I have no need for such a large quarters," she said firmly. "If you have need of me, I've taken Emmett's old room on the bottom story."

Edward opened his mouth, but his mother raised a finger, silencing him. "It's done. I'm still your mother, Edward. You won't argue with me."

He sighed, and pulled her into a hug. "I missed you, Mother."

She hugged him back and patted his cheek. "I know, my boy. I know."

~0~

It was, Edward thought, a little awkward to think he would take his wife to their marital bed in the room he was used to belong to his parents.

The room was different from what he remembered, and that helped slightly. He would speak to Bella, and they would decorate the space to reflect their shared taste - whatever that turned out to be.

Peter was long asleep, and Esme and Alice had let them alone to settle down after their long trip.

The luggage had been unpacked and put away by the servants while the reunited family had been speaking, save for one piece. Obviously not knowing where to put it, they had left the simple wooden box on the nightstand.

Edward held the thing now, feeling stupid for having forgotten the gift he'd bought Bella before they left Houston.

She stood, he knew, at the basin behind the screen, getting ready for bed. He could hear the drip drop of water, and imagined her moving the cloth over her bare skin. Of course, Edward's home had a proper bath, but it was late. The servants had all gone home, and there was no one to carry the hot water to fill the tub.

Turning the box over in his hand, Edward tried not to think about how the water would look coursing over her skin, falling over the curve of her breast.

They had yet to consummate their marriage.

Bella stepped out from behind the screen, and Edward's breath caught in his throat. He took her in from head to toe, thinking how lovely she looked with her hair spilling down her back so naturally, and her body devoid of all the usual layers of her daytime clothing.

Edward stretched a hand out, and she approached him shyly, putting her hand in his and letting him tug her to him.

"Your home is very lovely," she said softly, sitting next to him on the bed.

He wrapped his arms around her, stroking her cheek. "It is your home, too," he reminded her.

She sighed, closing her eyes. "That will take some getting used to, I think. But I do like it here. Your mother and sister are so kind."

"They like you," he murmured, kissing her cheeks and the tip of her nose with gentle brushes of his lips.

"Do they?" she asked uncertainly.

"Genuinely, they do," he said firmly. Propping his hand underneath her chin, he tilted her head up so she could see his eyes. "How could they not? You are... You are such a remarkable woman, Bella."

She closed her eyes, sighing softly in pleasure when he kissed her then. She laid her head on his chest and together, they breathed for a moment.

"I keep thinking that my father would have loved them," she said softly after a time.

Edward's free hand tightened around the little box again. "That reminds me. I have something for you."

Bella raised her head, looking at him dubiously. She laughed, and it was good to see the confident spark in her eye. She'd been so uncharacteristically withdrawn and nervous today. "Why, Mr. Cullen. You've given me too much as it is. I can't keep up."

He grinned at her. "I could give you the world, and to me, it would not be enough, Mrs. Cullen," he said gently, his voice deep with sincerity. "If I could, I would pull down the stars for you."

He might have felt foolish for saying such ridiculous things but the way her lips quirked up made it more than worthwhile.

"As it is, though, you will have to settle on this," he murmured, placing the box on her lap.

She sighed, giving him a mockingly disparaging look, and opened the thing. She gasped, her hand shooting to her mouth. "Oh my God," she exclaimed softly. "Edward... how..."

"When we were at the market, I saw you give it to the shopkeeper as payment," he explained. "I guessed it was important to you."

Bella took the heavy gold ring and the chain it was on out of the box with trembling fingers. She squeezed it tightly, a small sob escaping her lips. She turned abruptly and threw her arms around his neck, tugging him close. Before he knew it, she was peppering his face with kiss after kiss.

Edward found himself elated at the thought he had pleased her so much. He wrapped his arms tighter around her, delighting in her giggles.

"Thank you," she said breathlessly, kissing his cheeks and his chin. "Thank you," she said again and kissed his lips.

As quickly as the giddy emotion came between them, it passed, bringing in its wake something headier and much more dizzying.

Pulling back slightly, Edward caught her face in his hands, stroking tears off her cheeks with his thumbs. "You are happy?" he asked, his voice low and gravely.

She took a breath, the sound a little shaky, but her eyes sincere as she nodded. "Yes," she whispered.

He moved his hands, letting them trail down her cheek, brushing her hair back off her shoulders, away from her face. "You're happy with me?"

She licked her lips, her eyes hooded and tender as she looked on him. She raised her hand to his shoulders, stroking the back of his neck lightly. "Yes," she said simply.

Slowly, he took her hand in both of his, taking the ring from her. When he leaned in to set the ring on the nightstand, his body brushed against hers. She gave a little gasp but didn't move, and when he pulled back she was watching, biting her lip.

Taking a long, deep breath, wishing his heart wasn't pounding with the ferocity of horses hooves, Edward reached for her again. He drew his hands up and down her back, kissing her lips slowly, so tenderly.

Again, he wished he had pretty words for her. What he felt, at that moment, was poetry. He understood why so many men had spent so much time trying to find the most beautiful words to describe what he was feeling right now, to try to encapsulate what was happening between them.

He wanted to be joined with this woman and this woman alone, with their bodies as their lives had been.

His throat was tight with emotion and nerves as he raised his fingers to the buttons of her gown. Keeping his eyes on hers, hoping she could see what he didn't know how to say, he began to undo the buttons one by one.

Bella's lips were parted as she looked up at him. He could feel her chest rise and fall quickly against his hand. She said nothing, nor did she protest or whimper.

Of course, that didn't necessarily mean that she wasn't frightened. Bella was nothing if not brave.

Her eyes, though nervous, were also steady, and though he might have been seeing what he wanted to see in the soft light from the lamp, he thought there was a hint of want there.

When he had her buttons halfway undone down her front, Bella shrugged her shoulders, letting the fabric slip down her arms.

At that, Edward did let his eyes stray.

As enticing as her bare breasts had been when he watched her the night of the thunderstorm, they were a hundred times as alluring when they were right in front of him. Feeling almost like a teenage boy again, Edward raised his hand. She was small enough that he could fit his entire palm over her, though he did not. Instead, he experimentally drew the pads of two fingers across her nipple.

She gasped lightly, and when he looked up he saw that her eyes were closed and her face flushed. He wondered desperately what she was thinking. The little moan she made as he continued to stimulate her made him hope she was enjoying his ministrations. Perhaps that was why she seemed a little embarrassed. Proper ladies were not supposed to revel in their husband's attention in this way.

Well, to hell with that.

If he could make his wife feel good, he was damn well going to do it.

Pulling her with him to their feet, Edward kissed her again, a little harder this time, as her gown fell to the floor. He let his hands trace the lines of her body, following the slender curve of her hip and brushing over her buttocks. He loved the tiny little gasps his touch elicited, and the way she moaned into his mouth.

Trying his best not to stop kissing her, for he was intoxicated by her taste, Edward quickly shrugged out of his own clothing, wondering why he had not done this sooner. Already he was addicted to the the feel of her skin beneath his, hard and smooth in places, soft and supple in just the right ways.

When he pulled their nude bodies together, he remembered himself and one of the many reasons why he hadn't rushed to this point. She was trembling lightly in his arms, and he did not think it was all due to the slight chill in the room.

Breathing deeply, not wanting the insistent need below his belt to dictate his actions, Edward stooped slightly, pulling her up into his arms. Her hands wound trustingly around his neck, and she watched him as he laid her down in the center of their bed.

He kissed her with slow, little kisses as he positioned himself over her, holding his weight on his arms. "Look at me," he requested, his voice a caress.

Her eyes met his, her eyelashes fluttering nervously.

"I will be gentle with you, always," he promised.

She took a deep breath - he could feel her breasts rise and fall under his chest - and reached up to cup his cheek. "I know," she said, swallowing hard. "I... I don't know why... I can't stop shaking."

"Shhh," he murmured, understanding with certainty then that she must be a virgin. He was both endlessly relieved and a thousand times more apprehensive. He didn't relish the thought of hurting her, even a little bit.

Leaning in, he rained little kisses about her face and neck. "Hold on to me," he said against her ear. "We will go slow. I promise."

Her arms tightened around him in response.

Holding himself on one arm, he used his free hand to gently brush down her body, starting at her neck, and stroking slowly across her breasts, down her side, and over her belly, kissing her all the while. Slowly, her shaking subsided and her tense posture relaxed. She kissed him back, and he was able to draw those little moans he so loved from her parted lips.

When he positioned himself at her entrance she spread her legs to welcome him, and he slid inside her with slow, even thrusts. Her nails dug into the skin of his shoulders when he took her maidenhead, and he heard her little gasp by his ear, but her grip soon loosened, and when he began to move inside her, she stroked the hair at the back of his neck.

Making love to a woman was so much better than he could have imagined. Edward did not believe that any of his father's books could have put words to how it felt to join with Bella. Nothing could have prepared him for the awing depth of what he felt with her body surrounded by his, her walls tight, slick, and hot around him.

Perhaps he had entered his house that morning, coming to stay after so many years away, but it was only then, his body tangled with his beautiful wife's, the woman he'd promised to love, honor, and protect all their lives, that he finally felt at home.

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><p><strong>AN: MrsSpaceCowboy said: You do realize even S Meyer let him have sex on their wedding night, right? ;)**

**I lawled.**

**So sorry about not replying to reviews this time around. Hello to you small slew of new readers! I enjoyed your reviews ever so much. Very insightful, and I'm glad you're enjoying. **

**Many thanks to barburella and jadedandboring.**

**So! Edward is the man of the house now, eh? Let's see how this goes.**


	12. The Market Part 2

**A/N: So I was right in the middle of review replies when all hell broke loose at work. Sigh. Sorry, citizens. So many interesting ones this time around too. Someone offered to help with research. That's so fab! I'll be tracking you down when I'm...ya know...not at work. Mwah. I love you all.**

* * *

><p>When Edward woke, the light of the morning was strong, even as muted as it was behind the curtains. He blinked slowly, feeling slightly disoriented by time and place.<p>

He was, he noticed first, nude beneath the covers. He couldn't recall ever waking nude.

Sitting up, Edward was further confused to find himself in his parents' room.

This last little shock cleared the cobwebs from his sleep addled mind, and he remembered the events of the day previous: coming home to his mother and sister for good, his mother saying he was the man of the house...

Making love to his beautiful wife.

Edward felt his lower lip pout lightly when he realized Bella was not with him in bed. She'd apparently let him sleep in late. She had, he noted, set out everything he'd need to get himself cleaned and prepared for the day.

It was nice, he reflected, to be cared for in this way.

As he got up and dressed, his emotions vacillated. Happiness seemed to be the pervasive emotion, which was understandable. He was home safe - finally free of the long war he'd fought - and his physical desires had been satisfied. How much he wanted to believe he would live happily ever after from that point forward.

However, Edward, while out of his depth, was not naive. His life was anything but settled, and he could not know what trouble might be on the horizon until he was able to take full store of his situation.

Putting that heavy thought to the side, Edward let his mind wander to Bella.

He felt remarkably shy about facing her. Before he'd drifted off to sleep, she seemed to be quite content, curled up against him as she was. But she'd been very quiet. He suddenly worried that she was upset.

It was also somewhat awkward, he had to admit to himself, because he was sure that his mother and sister were also downstairs. As it was, he felt as though his deeds of the night before were written plainly on his skin. Surely they would be able to tell...

But so what if they knew? Obviously, neither were unaware of what being married meant, of what transpired between a man and a woman in their marriage bed.

Checking his reflection in the mirror, Edward sighed slightly.

Being a husband was still so new to him.

Dismissing his nervousness as ridiculous, Edward left his room.

His home was large enough to warrant a small team of servants, so Edward was not surprised to find a maid already bustling in the hall with a basket full of laundry. "Good morning, sir," she said, nodding her head.

"Good morning," he murmured.

Following the direction of the cheerful noise of women chattering, Edward found his family at the kitchen table. When his eyes found Bella, he was relieved when she smiled and charmed by the way her cheeks grew pink under his gaze. He smiled back, feeling shy again as she looked.

She stood, going to him and kissing his cheek. "Good morning," she murmured quietly. "Would you like some coffee and breakfast?"

He took her hand, not letting her step away as he grinned impishly at her. "Please," he said, and kissed her lightly, finding he didn't care that his mother and sister were likely watching their exchange.

Reluctantly, he let her go, and looked to the table, ready to apologize for being rude. He found his mother only looked pleased, and Alice seemed busy playing some kind of game with Peter. He stooped to kiss Esme's cheek. "Mother," he greeted softly, and she squeezed his hand.

Then, Edward was left with something of a conundrum. He'd been about ready to take his customary seat when he realized suddenly that Esme was not in hers. All his life, he was used to her sitting to the right of the head of the table - to the right of where his father sat. Now, she was sitting to the left.

Biting the inside of his cheek, Edward took a seat at the head of the table. It didn't feel quite right, nor did he feel completely out of place.

Esme patted his arm as if she understood what he was thinking.

Bella came back to the table, having retrieved a cup of coffee and a plate from the cook. She set these both in front of him before sliding into the seat at his right. Beneath the table, he briefly rested his hand upon her knee - a gesture of affection that grounded him, keeping him from being so overwhelmed.

Peter's delighted giggle distracted him somewhat, and Edward smiled, watching the tiny boy's fingers wrap around the little candy in the palm of Alice's hand. She laughed too, obviously enjoying playing with the little boy.

"Looks like you found a friend, Peter," he said with a chuckle.

Peter looked up at him, holding his treat aloft with bright eyes.

Though he shouldn't have expected differently, Edward had been relieved when both Esme and Alice had been sympathetic toward little Peter. Of course, the day previous, they hadn't let Edward get a word in edgewise until he told them the whole sordid tale of how he'd arrived home, after a harrowing, four year journey, with a wife of several days and a two year old child.

"So, what is the business of the day?" he asked lightly.

"That should be obvious, Edward," Alice said, her voice admonishing. "Mother and I helped Bella hem one of Mother's old dresses earlier this morning, but that won't do at all. We should go into town today. Right now, in fact."

"That's not necessary," Bella said quickly. "I purchased fabric at the last port. I can make my own things."

Alice and Esme exchanged a glanced. Alice laughed. "If you want to be the laughing stock of society, you'll make your own dresses."

"Alice!" Both Edward and Esme admonished at once.

"I'll thank you not to speak to my wife that way," Edward continued hotly.

Alice frowned, looking contrite. Bella was looking down at the table, biting her lip as if she didn't know what to say.

Sighing, Alice reached over and patted Bella's arm. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend."

"No, I understand," Bella said quietly. "My father and I - we were never the wealthiest people, but we were well to do. I don't recall ever making my clothes as a child, though my nanny did teach me how. It was only after the war that it became a habit." She screwed her lips up, looking deep in thought. "I suppose it's a hard habit to break. It will take some getting used to - remembering that a little excess is only to be expected." She smiled more genuinely. "Certainly, the dresses I wore to the parties in Houston, before the war, were ridiculously extravagant. My father always wanted me to fit in."

"I am sorry," Alice breathed, looking truly abashed. "I spoke out of turn. Sometimes, I forget that though we lost our father and both my brothers were wounded, we were very lucky during a very difficult time."

"Bella," Edward said softly. "You are welcome to do what makes you comfortable, of course, but there is something to what my sister speaks of. I am, myself, out of practice with the movements of our society, but last I knew, there was no short number of ladies coming to call in this house."

"That's still very true," Esme contributed. "Our family has always been involved with the community. You'll find that the people here, while not unkind or ungenerous, may also have very sharp tongues. You may, of course, contribute however you like - if at all - but you should know, gossip is to be expected." She pursed her lips, reaching across the table to rest her hand on Bella's. "As a newcomer to our brood, many eyes will be on you. It is admittedly ridiculous that a lady might be judged poorly for what clothes she wears, but that is the reality of the world."

Bella rested the back of her free hand against her cheek looking slightly overwhelmed.

"Oh, now it's not as serious as all that!" Alice exclaimed, leaning over to give Bella a hug. "Some of the women we know, they make cattiness a profession," she said, rolling her eyes. "But there are many great ladies amongst the blue bloods of Chicago. It's only right that you should be recognized as one of them."

Giving an excited little squeal, Alice became quite enthusiastic. "Many of the dances are such great fun, you'll see. Besides. It's not as though you're the only one in need of new clothes. Just look at Edward. His things don't even fit him anymore."

"What?" Edward looked at his sister, not expecting his name to come up.

She sighed at him, and then laughed. "You've actually grown some muscles in your years away, Brother. "

Edward frowned, noticing that the arms of his shirt were actually quite tight.

Alice shook her head, turning to Peter and tickling his sides lightly. "And as for you, young man. Well, we should probably make you a little less country bumpkin, hmm?"

Peter giggled gleefully, and Edward rolled his eyes fondly. The little boy would agree with anything she said, clearly.

"I was hoping to have a relaxing day," he hedged.

Alice made a face at him. "Yes, I'm sure you were working very hard on the riverboat," she said dryly.

Edward was fairly certain it was unbecoming of a gentleman his age to stick his tongue out at his little sister.

**~0~**

Some hours later, Edward had been dragged along with the rest of his family to what seemed like every tailor in Chicago. He'd had tape measures run down every length and width his body had to offer.

Well. Most of them, anyway.

He had a new top hat that he liked very much and a waistcoat he wasn't fond of, but Alice said all the rage.

"Come away now, darling," Esme said, threading her arm through Edward's. "Your wife is in good hands with your sister for the moment."

Edward smirked, looking over at where Alice was helping Bella with a rather big, very floppy hat. He recognized his wife's waning patience face. "Yes, Mother," he said amiably, checking to make sure that Peter was safely occupied at Alice's feet before he led his mother away.

"Now I know your Bella is very brave," Esme said with a chuckle when they were a fair distance away. "She didn't protest being left with your sister."

"Bella is incredible," Edward said softly.

His mother cast him a sidelong look. "Married life agrees with you," she surmised.

"Married life to Bella," Edward agreed. His shoulders slumped slightly as they walked on. "Mother... I have tried, in all things, to be a man you and father would be proud of. I find that of all the things I've been - student, soldier - it is being a husband that I most wish to succeed at."

"Marriage is a partnership, Edward," Esme murmured. "That young lady obviously adores you, and you her, so you must be doing something right." She clasped his arm. "I am proud of you, Edward. Would that your father had lived to see this day."

"I am not all virtue and patience," Edward argued. "Bella... she is frustrating and perplexing in many ways. She is willful and stubborn."

"Are you saying you want a complacent wife?"

"No!" he protested quickly. "Not at all. Bella is worth the challenge she often presents. It's just that I find myself occasionally getting short with her."

Esme seemed amused. "You do worry, don't you, dear boy?" She breathed deeply, tilting her head as if in deep thought. "Being a good husband doesn't mean you won't quarrel with your wife."

"You and Father didn't fight."

His mother laughed loudly. "Oh, yes we did. Often, in fact, and quite vehemently."

Edward didn't know what to say to that. He was somewhat shaken by his mother's revelation.

"She has been quiet to date, but that is to be expected with what changes she's been through in a short amount of time. Still," Esme mused aloud. "There is a fire in her. I can tell. That's why she suits you. You've never had any patience for the meek women who demure to a man's every whim and quiver at a raised voice. And then, you were similarly repelled by those women who were too emboldened with you, brazen I should say.

"Bella is a fine mix. She is not without her own opinions, nor is she hesitant to express them, and yet there is a hint of shyness about her." She grinned. "She's quite enchanting."

Edward snorted. "Yes. Enchanting, bewitching... Mother, she turns me in circles. Sometimes, I feel quite foolish around her. Why is that?"

"Because, my dear son, you are in love with her."

This thought brought Edward up short. He blinked in shock. "What?"

Esme laughed at him. "What? Is it so shocking to find that you love your wife?"

Facing forward, Edward continued walking. He didn't speak for many moments. "Is that what this feeling is? Like I can fly, and at the same time I'm terrified that any moment, she'll realize that I am not good enough for her and go running from me?" He shook his head. "I didn't want to be so bold as to call it love. I know I want to protect her from anything this world threatens her with. I know that I..." he paused, wondering if it was inappropriate to say what he was about to, but who else was he going to ask? "I love holding her in my arms. Is that love, Mother?" He felt not unlike a little boy asking his mother of all the perplexing workings of the world.

"What I know, Edward, is that when you look at her, you look on her with love, and I see that same emotion in her eyes." She looked over at him, an adoring, motherly smile on her face. "You are your father's son. Follow your heart, and you will continue to do him credit."

As they walked on, Edward was silent, turning all this information over in his head. He so desperately wanted to believe his mother was right about everything.

"I am my father's son," he began, intending to change the direction of the conversation, "but so is Emmett. I am the younger son and he the eldest. I've been wondering... when he comes back from New York, will he not expect the house?"

"Well, Emmett and I talked about that at length after you returned to your battalion," Esme murmured. Edward could see in her eyes the subject was difficult, and he held her arm tighter.

"As you know, your father split his investments between you boys and left a fair sum to Alice. Of course, you remember that he left it to us to decide what to do with the house," she reminded.

Edward nodded. "Yes, I remember." At the time, he hadn't given a damn . His father was dead and he was honor-bound to return to the war.

"Well, save for enough to take care of some niceties, Emmett said he didn't want to touch his share of the estate and further thought that house should be yours." Her lips twitched. "To be honest, Edward, I think he feels terrible that he was injured so early on and could not serve our country nor protect his little brother." She shook her head lightly. "He has it in his head that he will make his own way in the world, though, I daresay he might be signing a different tune soon."

"Why is that?"

Esme stopped and looked at her son. "Why, he has a wife and baby to provide for now, of course," she said.

Edward's eyes bulged. "What? Since when?"

"Oh, dear," Esme murmured, pressing a hand to her cheek. "Did you not receive my letter? You know Emmett had every intention of marrying Rosalie. Well, as it turned out, they must have got a bit ahead of themselves because they married around Christmastime, and Rosalie bore a healthy, full term daughter in mid-June."

Looking forward, Edward tried to process this information. "I most certainly did not receive that letter," he muttered aloud.

"I wrote to you of their marriage just after Christmas," Esme said with a sigh. "Ah, well. They were undecided whether they were going to stay in New York or come back here. As it happens, they've decided to come back home. They are just waiting for the baby to gain a few more months before they try to travel."

It was wise, Edward reflected. Children's lives were not so certain in this world of theirs, and healthy babies fell ill often enough. "What is her name?" It felt so odd - that for some, life had continued almost normally while his days had been spent in fields and tents with the promise of battles still yet to be fought.

Esme's smile brightened. "Charlotte Abigail Cullen. Oh, I can't wait to meet her."

"I'm surprised you weren't on the first train," Edward said with a chuckle.

She frowned. "I would have been. Perhaps that's why they waited to tell me. I received their telegram only a day or so before yours."

"Mother, you needn't stay here on my account," Edward said, putting two and two together. "If you wish to go to them..."

"They will come to us soon enough," she said firmly. "As I said, they have decided to return here. Emmett has some ideas about setting up his own practice." Esme looked to her son. "I trust one of the guest room is available to them until they find a place of their own?"

"Of course," Edward said quickly. "You know I wouldn't deny my brother."

"I expected as much -"

"Why, my goodness. Is that you, Edward Cullen?"

Edward and Esme turned to find a woman with a grand dress, a bright blue parasol, and strawberry blond curls coming for them, a huge smile on her face. It took Edward a moment to place her. "Tanya?"

Before he knew it, she'd thrown her arms about his neck, hugging him tightly. When Edward took a step back, she let him go. "Oh, my word. So many soldiers had already made their way home, I was beginning to think something had happened and your dear mother had not told us." She reached forward, running her hand along his arm. "How glad I am to see you."

Clearing his throat, Edward took a surreptitious step backward before he answered. "We arrived only yesterday."

"We?"

Before he could clarify, an arm slipped through his, and he looked to the side to find Bella had appeared out of no where with Alice and Peter not far behind. "Hello, darling," she greeted.

Edward tried to keep his amusement off his face. He had noticed Bella was not one for terms of endearment, Peter aside, so her use of one now was particularly telling. He bent slightly to kiss her cheek in greeting. "Hello, my dear." He turned to Tanya, his smile broadening as she tried to cover her shock. "Sweetheart," he said to Bella, "this is Miss Tanya Ivanov. Her father owns a great many businesses in the Chicago area and some in New York City, if I recall."

"That's right," Tanya said, recovering her serene smile.

"Miss Ivanov, this," he said, clasping Bella's hand and smiling at her with open adoration and pride, "is my beautiful wife, Isabella Cullen."

He did not miss the way Tanya's cool eyes swept Bella from head to toe, taking in ever detail, no doubt. He held back a grimace.

"What a pleasure to meet you," Tanya said, her voice sugary sweet. Her eyes flicked to Peter, in Alice's arms, and she quirked a brow. "Well, my goodness. What an adorable child."

Peter ducked his head, clinging to Alice shyly.

"I think Peter is quite tired," Bella murmured to Edward.

"Of course. Who can blame him. It's been a busy day," Edward said easily. "Miss Ivanov, I do beg your pardon..."

"Well, as I said, Edward, it's nice to see you again," she said, reaching out to squeeze his arm. "I'm sure my sisters and I will be calling soon."

Edward grimaced, wondering if there was a polite way to bat her hand away.

"Well, that's something to look forward to, isn't it?" Alice said, stepping between them. "I was just telling Bella that I'd love to throw her a grand party. A welcome home, as it were. So if we don't see you before then, I'm sure you'll attend?"

"Of course!" the other woman said. "Oh, it has been some time since we've seen a truly grand party. I look forward to it."

Everyone smiled with mock sincerity before Edward steered his family away.

So it began, he thought.

Within the hour, the greater part of Chicago would know he'd returned home with a new wife - a wife who spoke with a soft but distinct Southern accent. They would know the child's name was Peter. There would be speculation, and doubtlessly wild stories of how he came to choose Bella as a wife when he could have had his pick of the debutantes at home.

He put those thoughts aside as they returned to the carriage. Edward had to laugh. "Alice, I have half a mind to leave you here. There's hardly room for all of us in the carriage with all these packages."

"Well, just be glad we had to order most of what we bought or none of us would fit!" Alice said, grinning wickedly.

Edward patted Bella's hand. "You survived your first expedition with Alice, my sweet."

Bella sighed, and he thought it seemed like she was releasing some tension, the way her shoulders relaxed. "That was quite harrowing," she said, and smiled at her sister-in-law in good nature.

"Harrowing," Alice echoed, shaking her head. "There are few pleasures greater than a pretty new dress, if you ask me."

She set Peter in the carriage, and he fussed, not in the mood to be put down. "Look, Peter. Would you like a piece of rock candy?"

That distracted the child, and he held his hand out expectantly.

Edward sighed. "He already likes you, Alice. There's no need to bribe him further. You'll spoil the boy."

"A little candy isn't going to hurt him. And he was very good, weren't you, Peter?" she said, grinning at the child. "He stood very still to let his measurements be taken."

Shaking his head fondly, Edward helped his mother, then Alice, and finally Bella into the carriage. "Home, Seth," he requested before he climbed in himself.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Love to my girls. Love to you all.**


	13. Que Sera Sera

**Dear helpful anon reviewer - Appreciated. TRULY. Truly. Just a little frustrating as I had answers to the vast majority of your points. :) But thank you. I do appreciate where you're coming from.**

* * *

><p>Edward supposed he must have been about four or five in his memory, because the space underneath his father's desk seemed very large - a fitting fort as he played with his toy soldiers, imagining he was leading armies in the space underneath each leg.<p>

He heard a rich chuckle, and grinned up as his father pulled out his chair. Carlisle's grin seemed serene, and little Edward giggled as he was hoisted up on his father's lap. "Good morning, son. What mischief are you up to today?"

"None, Papa," Edward answered sincerely. "I am a good boy today."

"Just today?" Carlisle asked, ruffling his hair fondly.

Edward shrugged, knowing full well he oft got into trouble, though he tried to mind his mother and his nanny.

He was quickly distracted by the items he spied on his father's desk, and began to pick things up, seeing how he could play with them. He was especially pleased with a magnifying glass, which he held up to his father's face, giggling delightedly when Carlisle's features were grossly magnified.

Carlisle was, as always, patient, indulging the endless line of questions children often had. He identified at least six objects on the desk, gently correcting Edward when he guessed the wrong use for whatever he'd picked up.

"Papa, when I am big like you, will I be a doctor?" Edward asked, examining the little hammer Carlisle had showed him that could make his leg kick out.

"If that's what you wish. You may do whatever pleases you, Edward. As long as you do something with your life, you will make your father proud," he said sincerely.

"Hmmmm." Edward held a finger to his lips as if deep in thought. "I want to play my plan-o," he declared decisively.

Carlisle smiled. "I hear there that the conservatory in London is the finest school for brilliant musicians. I shall send you there some day, if you please." He looked a little sad for a moment, and drew the pads of his fingers down Edward's face. "Though, my son, I rather hope you have a mind to stay much closer than London."

**~0~**

It was difficult not to think of this space as his father's study. He almost felt like he was intruding as he pulled the fine leather chair out and prepared to sit.

A tiny, startled gasp gave Edward a better sense of time and place, and he stooped slightly, smiling when he found Peter below the desk. Smiling at the boy, he picked him up, settling him on the clean edge of the desk.

"Hello, young man. What mischief are you up to today?" he asked quietly, echoing his father's words from nearly two decades before.

Peter crinkled his nose, not quite understanding the question. He proffered Edward a moist cracker, which Edward politely declined. "There will be crumbs under the desk, I suppose, hmm?" he asked, tickling the boy's side lightly. "Well, if we are invaded by ants, we know who to blame, don't we?"

"Peter! There you are."

Edward looked up, smiling as Bella came in the study, looking a little harried.

She smiled at him apologetically. "I'm sorry. One minute he was playing with his train set, the next minute he'd disappeared." She put her hands on her hips, looking at Peter sternly. "Petey, you gave me a fright, running off like that."

Peter smiled winningly at her and tried his luck with the cracker again. Bella shook her head. "No, thank you." She turned back to Edward. "I'll get him out of your way."

"He's not in the way. In fact, if you'd like to join us, that would suit me just fine," he said gently, offering a hand to his wife.

She wrapped his fingers with hers and came to stand at his side, looking curiously at the ledgers that sat on the desk. Winding an arm around her waist, Edward rested his head on her side, breathing in the warm, clean scent she exuded. With her free hand, she petted his hair tenderly.

"I miss my father," he admitted against the fine silk of her dress.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. "I miss my father, too. However, being downstairs with your mother and sister just now, I thought it was strange. My father, the only family I've ever known, is gone, but I seem to have gained what I never had before: a mother and sister."

He looked up at her, smiling genuinely. "I'm glad they haven't scared you away."

Her cheek twitched, and she rolled her eyes slightly. "Yes, well, they're trying. I was never very patient with embroidery work, so mine is very sloppy compared to theirs. I declare, if your mother undoes my stitches one more time..."

Edward chuckled, thinking he wouldn't have the slightest bit of patience for that kind of exacting work.

Peter interrupted their little moment, tugging on Bella's sleeve and looking at her with needy eyes as he squirmed. Quickly, Bella set the boy on the floor, taking his hand to go with him to the toilet.

"Bella," Edward caught her attention before she left. "Have you thought any more about what I said about a nanny?"

She gave him a wry look. "Edward, you choose the oddest moments to have these conversations," she said, looking down at the wriggling child.

"I would like to take a walk with you when you get back," he said. "If it pleases you. Ask Alice to watch Peter, please."

She nodded and walked away for the moment, leaving Edward to his ledgers.

With her bright presence gone, sadness again began to tug at Edward's heart. Rather than going over his holdings and investments, as he'd originally intended, he found himself tracing his finger over his father's neat script, remembering how often he'd found Carlisle bent over his desk, studying figures.

Edward had not accomplished more than staring off into space before Bella came back. Her hair, he noticed, had been braided and coiled, and she wore a wide, very pretty hat that matched her fine dress.

It seemed Alice and Esme's tutelage had not gone unheeded.

He offered her his arm, and she took it, falling into step beside him as they walked down the stairs and out the front door.

Edward didn't speak at first, but took in the cobblestone streets, the people walking or riding to and fro, and the wagons hurrying past - the bustle that was his home.

"Something is troubling you," Bella guessed as they walked. "It's not because I have not wanted to hire a nanny for Peter is it, because-"

"No," he interjected. "It's not that. You may see to Peter as you wish, though I will probably hire a tutor for him sooner rather than later. Perhaps just after his birthday. It's never too early," he mused.

"I agree," Bella said amiably. "Now, tell me what's weighing so heavily on you."

They walked on a moment while Edward searched for his words. "I have been as of yet undecided about how to make my living. By now, Bella, you've seen that we come from old money. I have no need to work, but can make investments as I please."

"But that does not satisfy you," Bella filled in.

"No. My father was a very dedicated doctor in this community. My brother graduated recently from Harvard with a law degree. Yet here I am. Of course, the war interrupted my schooling at West Point, and certainly, I have no interest in being a career soldier," he said. Unlike the South, Northern soldiers were sent to war for certain periods of time. Edward had reenlisted when his first tour was over. He'd given enough to that life. "Even if I had a mind to do it, I could not. West Point will not accept married men."

"You could choose to study elsewhere," she pointed out.

"I could," he hedged. "However, that seems unbecoming. It feels wrong, now that I find myself a married man, to return to my studies."

Bella's face was impassive as she thought about this. "Well, a man of your means has many choices, Edward. There's no reason you couldn't return to your schooling, if that's what you wished. And if you had it in mind to do something else, there are many doors open to you, degree or none."

They stopped for a moment to exchange niceties with their neighbors, Conner and Samantha Wells, both of whom expressed their excitement for the upcoming party Alice was hosting.

Edward noticed with amusement that Bella had almost managed to hide her grimace by that point.

"I know you have not yet taken callers, these last two weeks we've been home," Edward began again when they were safely away. "You have not yet had the time to be exposed to what people may say. I know my mother has already told you that people will naturally gossip; you're a fresh face. However, you will find that this society has plenty to say about the rest of us as well.

"It is well known that the Cullens are a peculiar family." He rolled his eyes for her benefit. "We have proclivities it seems, and hold some unpopular ideals. You know we employ Seth and his sister, Leah, for instance. That caused quite a stir."

"Well, I can't see why it should bother me," Bella said fervently. "They do fine work, that I've seen. Seth especially is very attentive."

"That's how we feel," Edward said with a nod. "What I'm saying is that not everyone in our circles agrees."

"What does this have to do with our previous topic of conversation?" Bella asked.

Edward hesitated. "I'm not sure yet. I have many ideas in my head and I've yet to settle on one I like."

Slipping his hand into hers, Edward tugged her over the hill at an open space. They walked for a few minutes before they came to a willow tree whose leaves drooped down to the ground. He lifted them aside, and Bella's eyes went wide as she looked around her. "This place is very pretty," she said on a breath.

Edward chuckled, pleased that she was pleased. "Emmett and I found it many years ago. We spent many afternoons playing here. It's not so far from the street and yet..."

"It's like another world," she laughed.

"Yes. Look. These branches make a perfect seat. Emmett used to pretend he was a king."

Edward bowed grandly at her. "Your majesty? Your throne awaits."

She chuckled but indulged him, letting him help her so she was sitting up on a wide, sturdy branch. He climbed up, a little more boyish than was prudent, beside her.

"I half thought this place was just something my mind made up," he said quietly. "It seems like I was last here lifetime ago."

He was silent for another minute before he gathered his thoughts, continuing their conversation from before. "History has already begun to paint a different vision of the war. They say we fought this war to free the slaves, but that isn't true. I was there. The war I fought was to preserve the Union. In truth, freeing the slaves was almost incidental, and now the Northern states want as little to do with the freed Negroes as the Southern, maybe even less so."

Again he paused, staring out at the green land and sighing. "The genteel society speaks of the 'colored problem' and they are quick to point fingers elsewhere. Shantytowns are popping up in every major city, and some find it distasteful. Just yesterday, when I was visiting a few properties I own, I heard people discussing it, wishing these freedmen would just go away, but they neglect to realize, there is no where for them to go. They are disgusted that these people don't get jobs, and yet they will not hire them."

He raised a hand to his mouth, tapping his fingers against his chin in frustration. "And that is just the beginning. That's not to speak of the young, widowed women being turned to the street as they have no husbands to support them, or think of all that happened to you and Jasper. I am not unaware that the Southern states are being slowly crushed to death. Just as families were torn apart when the war began, so will they be shifted again as we rebuild the country."

Her gloved hand against his cheek stopped his tirade, and he turned his head to look at her. "There are a great many problems in our world," she said slowly. "You aren't proposing that you should solve them all on your own, are you?"

"No," he said softly. "Honestly, I am just speaking out loud. I did want your input. I don't give a damn what people say of my actions, but it is not only my life." Wrapping his arm around her, he tilted her chin up, studying her intently. "What would you say, love, if there was talk about town about your husband?"

"If you are doing what you think is right, I would say only that I am a proud wife, and I will stand by you no matter what," she answered quietly.

Smiling, Edward tilted her head up, kissing her with sweet, soft kisses. He let one hand drift down to splay over her flat stomach. "And our children? Perhaps I will buy a newspaper, print the real truth, and live with the consequences." He smiled at her. "And perhaps our little girl will come crying because she will not be invited to some Senator's son's birthday."

Bella looked bemused. "You want a little girl?"

He tilted his head, sliding down from his perch so he could better serve his aim. He thought idly that he didn't care for this latest trend of silly hats; they made it more difficult to manuever around when he wanted to kiss her. "Yes. Several, in fact."

She sighed, leaning in to his kisses. "Don't most men want a healthy son?"

"Well, of course," Edward murmured, kissing her chin and her cheeks. "I will take a few of those as well."

Laughing, Bella brought her hands to his chin, cradling his face and looking on him adoringly. "You want me to give you, what is that, six children? Seven?" she asked, her tone slightly incredulous.

"Well," he smiled sheepishly, wrapping his arms about her waist and lowering her carefully to the ground. "Let us just start with one, hmm?" he said huskily, brushing his body against hers, trapping her against the branch with a hand on either side of her body.

Her eyes widened, but she tilted her head up eagerly when he leaned in for another, much more thorough kiss. "Do you mean to try here, in public?" she sounded more amused than anything.

Bringing his hands up, he cupped her breast through the fabric of her dress, delighting in her little gasp and the way she bit her lip. "Would you deny me?" he asked, his voice a rumble near her ear.

"No," she whispered, her hands on his chest as she caressed the side of cheek, searching until she found his lips.

Weeks ago, if anyone had told him he would be pressing a woman up against a tree branch, his hands roaming her body, he would have begged their pardon, insulted by the very idea.

Bella, he'd quickly discovered, brought out a very primal side of him. Perhaps he would have been mortified but, well... she didn't seem to mind it.

They were both learning how to be lovers, learning how to touch each other, and most of all, learning together that marital relations didn't need to be as serious as a business transaction, regardless of what the church and society at large would have them believe.

Yes, he was a lucky man.

"Come, my dear," he said, reluctantly stepping away from her and taking her hand. "Let us get back to the house, and the comfort of our room." He chuckled, straightening her hat. "Alice has sharp eyes. She will surely notice if we sully your dress with sap."

**~0~**

Their intimate rendezvous was not to be, however, as when they got back to the house, Alice was nearly bouncing with excitement.

"Oh, this is just perfect! Edward," she cried, bounding over to him. "We received a telegram from Emmett. He shall be here just three days before the party!"

That was how Edward ended up answering questions about his brother and Rosalie when he finally got Bella to their room.

"Emmett was very effected by what happened to Rosalie," Edward explained, sitting on the edge of their bed "To be honest, it was difficult to be around Rosalie. She was either very silent or very angry." He bowed his head. "I'm rather ashamed to admit, I had very little patience for her."

"You were twelve," she said firmly, coming to sit beside him.

He smiled, running his hand through her long hair. She was always beautiful, but with her hair undone, just for him, she seemed ephemerally so. Edward was momentarily distracted until she arched an eyebrow at him.

Clearing his throat, Edward continued. "My brother had never been very patient to that point, but with Rosalie, he was different. He would go into a room where she was sitting and sit near her without speaking for hours on end. He did this for a couple of weeks, and she started talking to him."

Bella nodded. "I understand the tactic. Jasper was the same way with animals. I once found a very scared kitten under the porch. She would not come out. Jasper told me she would be fine and just sat in the grass for hours and hours until the little thing came and curled up in his lap."

"Yes," Edward agreed. "It was much the same with Rosalie. She was very skittish, but Emmett seemed to make her feel safe. They forged quite a bond."

He rubbed the back of his neck, releasing a slow breath of frustration, remembering. "Well, we tried to make things better for her here, but after what her fiance and his friends did... the gossip about town was scathing."

"How horrible," Bella murmured.

"Yes," Edward nodded. "Even Mother took no small amount of criticism for 'condoning' Rosalie's actions." He shook his head, obviously a touch furious.

"Eventually, Rosalie chose to stay with an aunt in Rochester, New York. Emmett accompanied her on the trip and found reasons to stay close by." He grinned. "I think it's why he chose to go to Harvard, which is a relatively close train ride away.

"They continued to see each other frequently. When Emmett was injured, Rosalie raced to his bedside and refused to leave until he was able to walk out of that hospital under his own power," he smiled fondly. He'd been glad that his brother had someone by his side through that time.

Bella chuckled, and Edward looked up, amused at her amusement. "What is it?"

"I was thinking about what you said earlier, about your family. Especially you Cullen men, marrying women without thought of consequence," she said gently.

Smiling, he pivoted toward her, reaching out to put his arms about her. "Consequence, my dear? What is the consequence of marrying you? Hmm?"

"Don't think I don't understand, Edward, that when you say people will gossip about me, they will also talk of your plight. 'How did that Southern witch trap the handsome Mr. Cullen?'" she imitated Tanya's accent - the light and airy way aristocratic women spoke, with just a touch of the Russian hardness - remarkably well.

Leaning in, Edward pressed forward until Bella was laying back on the bed, pinned beneath his body. He rolled to the side, taking her with him as he began to kiss her soft and slow, but possessively. "Well, there may be something to that theory," he murmured, pulling down the edge of her gown to kiss her shoulder. "You're a witch? Perhaps that explains why you have me so completely under your spell."

Whatever Bella was about to say was cut off as she gave a small whimper. Edward made a mental note to touch the spot he'd found - right along the edge of her collarbone - as often as possible... perhaps with his tongue next time.

Before he let the headiness of the atmosphere get away with him, Edward lifted his eyes, cupping her face in his hands. "Isabella, if I haven't told you often enough, you are an amazing woman. You are unfailingly good - so much better than I can ever hope to be. You are strong." He stroked the back of his hand down one cheek. "And you are so beautiful."

He kissed her again seriously, lingering so she could feel in his actions that he meant every word he said. Only when they were both breathless did he pull back, again taking her face in his hands. "I should have told you before. I love you."

Her eyes, in the lamplight, seemed to dance with happiness, and she put her hands over his. "I love you, too, Edward," she whispered, and tilted her head to kiss him again.

It was incredible how her simple words made his heart soar. He felt elated, all heavier thoughts that had taken him during the day falling away.

Pushing Bella gently back, Edward kissed her tenderly, adoringly, even as his hands slid down her body, finding the hem of her gown. Eager to be joined with her after their time in the park, he did not bother to undress either of them, but only hiked her gown up enough, and his pants down enough, to fulfill his purpose.

Afterward, though, they both wiggled out of the remainder of their clothes, both preferring the intimacy of being skin to skin.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thank you to barburella and twitina! **

**My regular beta, jadedandboring, will be here tomorrow, and then I'm going to Yosemite shortly after she leaves, so updating might be slightly more sporadic for the next two weeks. I love you, and your response to this story is phenomenal. **


	14. Elder Brother

One could prepare all they wanted for the theoretical idea of war, and with only a little over a year of West Point under his belt, Edward had relatively little theoretical preparation at that. Actually experiencing the 'glory' of war was a whole different experience.

It was the very early morning of April 6, 1862 when Edward was thrown from sound sleep into panicked wakefulness at the sound of chaos outside his tent. There were wild battle cries amidst the sound of pain-filled screams and tramping feet.

Emmett, beside him in the tent, was first to get to the mouth, looking out. Peering over his shoulder, ducked low at the sound of bullets whistling through the air, Edward could see the their battalion being driven from their tents half-clothed and half-armed.

A surprise attack by the Confederate troops, he realized.

Emmett cursed and grabbed for his gun, charging out into the fray. Stopping only long enough to pull on his jacket, Edward flew out after him.

"Grab your boots! We have to get to the treeline," Emmett ordered.

Since the war began, they'd had more than one argument. Emmett had taken it upon himself to protect his little brother even though, limited as it was, Edward had more training. Though Edward outwardly insisted that his brother should only concentrate on the task at hand, he secretly felt better that Emmett was at his side.

That day, thrown into the middle of battle rather than having the time to beat back the child inside him who was frightened to death of the coming fray, Edward was glad to have anyone's orders to obey. He was shaking so badly it was hard to level his gun to aim. His heart was pounding so hard, he didn't think he could have spoken if he wanted to.

Darting back into the tent, he grabbed his boots, tying the laces together quickly so he could toss them over his shoulder. Thinking fast, he grabbed Emmett's boots too as his brother shouted at him to hurry. Together, with many other troops, they ran for the treeline.

The ensuing battle lasted two days. The Union won at the loss of 13,000 men to the Confederate's loss of 11,000. There was so much death and pain all around them, Edward remembered feeling like he was running through a river of blood on the forest floor, the sound of the wind through the trees and the creatures of the woods replaced by groaning, screaming, and the crack of bullets and cannons.

Through it all, Emmett was at his side, his gun always steady, his expression fierce, looking stronger and braver than Edward felt. He borrowed that strength to taper down his fear and did his duty.

At the end of the day on April 7, looking around, seeing no enemies rushing at him, Edward thought he could breathe. He closed his eyes to steady himself for one second, just one.

"Edward! No!" his brother roared.

He felt Emmett barrel into him, and he fell to the ground. At the same time, the sound of a single gunshot rang out through the air seeming to echo. Emmett screamed, and when Edward looked up, he could see blood darkening the arm of his uniform. With a cry of fury, he threw himself at the Confederate solider who had found him, running him through clean with his saber.

"Emmett!" he cried, collapsing to his knees at his brother's side. "Medic! I need a medic!" he shouted, desperate with fear because the wound was bad and the bleeding too quickly.

**~0~**

"Edward."

"Medic," he muttered frantically, not recognizing for too many long moments that he was safe in his bed. All he heard around him was the cries of pain, the moans of the wounded. His nostrils burned with the acrid smell of gun powder and the stifling copper scent of blood. The thrum of his heart was too fast in his chest, and he couldn't quite get his lungs to fill.

"Edward," the voice repeated. Amidst the chaos all around him, this voice was gentle and quiet - out of place. There were soft hands on his chest, and some part of him realized he was thrashing. "Shh, shh. You're fine. Please wake up."

For a minute, his mind warred with his heart. His battle sense was on full alert at the sound of the voice's light, Southern lilt and tensed his body to recoil, fight back against whatever trickery this was. His heart knew the voice promised refuge and was drawn toward it, toward safety, steadiness, and comfort.

"Open your eyes. Look at me. Breathe," the voice implored, and he remembered all at once that he wasn't a terrified teenager on the battlefield watching his brother bleed to death. He was a grown man and the hands that touched him, the voice that soothed him, belonged to his wife. He was safe with her in their bed.

Opening his eyes, Edward drank her in and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a tight embrace. He breathed in the smell of her skin, the light scent of lavender from the fine soaps his mother favored replacing the smell of battle and death. The only sounds in the quiet house were his own frantic breathing and the rustle of their night clothes as he tangled their legs together, wanting Bella as close as possible. His eyes darted around the room lit only by moonlight, searching for danger but only finding darkness.

Back when they were in Houston and Edward was well enough to start working, he'd periodically been struck by a great fatigue. Concerned that he was exerting himself too soon, Bella had summoned Doctor Berty, who gruffly explained he was healing nicely from his wounds. What he suffered from was called Da Costa's syndrome, more commonly known as Soldier's Heart. It explained the ache in his chest and the way his heart beat unsteadily as he tried to catch his breath.

Personally, Edward didn't care what the doctor said. What he had was an inability to forget the things he'd seen and done during the war. His body remembered the fear and adrenaline. He remembered the way his blood pumped through his veins - hot and angry. Through his terror, he was so furious.

The enemies kept on coming.

They knew he was going to shoot, he had to shoot, but they kept on coming, and he kept on shooting.

Battle after battle for four years, he watched other men - brothers, sons, fathers, husbands - scream and fall under his gun or his sword. He watched his fellow soldiers - the men he'd come to know and love through the hardship they suffered - fall wounded and maimed, bleeding to death or worse, languishing in ill-equipped hospitals where many more would die of infection.

He'd watched Emmett nearly bleed to death. How vividly he remembered watching as the surgeon and nurses hovered over his brother, trying to save his arm. Emmett looked so pale, bone pale and sweating profusely.

Warm hands on his cheeks settled his thoughts somewhat, and Edward let his eyes find Bella.

Shifting wordlessly, he claimed her mouth with his. He was suddenly desperate to feel warmth. He was chilled to the center of his being and could feel an overwhelming darkness threatening. His instinct was to seek warmth and control over something since he could not completely rein in his tumultuous emotions. Some part of him knew he was being too rough, he should be more delicate with his wife, but the need to quell his rising anxiety took precedence in his still addled brain.

Rolling so that he was on top of her, his fingers pulling up her gown as his lips moved hungrily with hers, Edward almost didn't hear the little mewling sound she made at the back of her throat. Her hands had fallen back on the pillow on either side of her head.

Quickly, Edward pulled back, horrified and disgusted with himself. She was not fighting him, but that wasn't exactly a fair way to gauge her willingness. Submitting to him was part of her marriage vows. Refusal was grounds for divorce. She was well aware of that fact. "I'm sorry," he breathed.

"No," she said, her hands catching his shoulders before he could get too far. "You startled me is all."

He studied her face carefully, still feeling panicky and breathless.

She raised a hand to his cheek and caressed his skin, moving her legs up to slide along the outside of his. He could feel the warmth, the heat she radiated, and need formed a knot in his throat.

Lowering his face back down to hers, he kissed her more tenderly. "I would never hurt you," he whispered.

"I know," she assured, kissing him back. They moved together, silent except for the sound of their kisses and the slip of clothing being tugged down, up, or otherwise out of the way.

Edward felt infinitely better when her slight body was under his, skin to skin. When he thrust himself inside her, he finally felt calm. She raised her legs, wrapping them around him so her feet brushed his back and backside, and Edward shuddered at the intensity, feeling his diminutive wife surround him, grounding him.

"I love you," he murmured against her lips as he moved inside her.

Her answer was a soft whimper, and Edward ducked his head to kiss along her neck. He let the sounds of her pleasure drive away the last of his residual fear, reminding himself of all the new, happy memories he was creating every day with her.

**~0~**

Because he doubted that their buggy could hold his mother, sister, wife, Peter, Emmett, Rosalie, baby Charlotte, and all their luggage, Edward took the buggy ride to Galena & Chicago Union Station alone.

Well, he tried to go alone. Just as Seth had secured the horses and he was about to step inside, his sister called to him.

"I'm going," she said plainly, taking Seth's arm to step inside before Edward could protest again. Shaking his head, Edward gave up and followed his sister into the cab.

"It's going to be so good to have everyone home again," Alice said excitedly.

Edward smirked, deciding not to tease his sister about how unladylike it was to to bounce about as she was doing. She was right, though. It had been a great many years since their family was gathered under one roof for more than a few days at Christmas.

"Oh, Edward," Alice said suddenly, switching topics. "Don't let me forget. I need to post this letter. Union Station is as good a place as any, I suppose, seeing as I keep missing the postman."

Curious, Edward took the letter she indicated from her bag and looked at it. "Why are you writing to Jasper Whitlock?" he asked, taken aback when he saw his old friend's name on the envelope.

The look on Alice's face indicated that she thought it was rather a dimwitted question. "To let him know of Peter, of course."

"I telegraphed him when we arrived, Alice. He knows Peter's safe here."

She arched an eyebrow. "I'm not writing about his safety. From what Bella told me, I'm sure that he misses his son as much as Peter obviously misses his father. I'm just writing to tell him what a good boy he has raised, and tell him of some of the mischief he gets into."

Edward was amused. "You think because Jasper misses his son, he will be interested in hearing about the details of a toddler's day?"

Sighing, Alice shook her head. "Many men are disinterested in their children. I didn't think you would be one of them." She tilted her head, regarding him curiously. "I think, Edward, when you're a father, you will understand what it might mean to hear of your child's antics should you ever be separated from him."

Edward didn't answer right away, tapering down the elated emotion he felt at the idea of being a father. He felt a great deal of pride just imagining Bella's belly growing large and round about their child.

"And how do you know, Alice?" he asked, his lips curled up into a half grin. "You have no children of your own."

"No," she said with a soft sigh. "Nor a beau to imagine a future with." She frowned, screwing up her lips as if she'd bitten into something foul. "Both my brothers are married with children, and I'm like to die an old maid."

"Don't be dramatic, Alice," he chided, and then chuckled. "Mother said you turned away a fair number of suitors as it is."

"They were all very dull," she protested, folding her arms. "Or very old. I won't marry for the sake of being married," she warned.

"I wouldn't want that for you," he soothed. "I worry about your future, you know, but I would never push you into a marriage you would not be happy in."

Her expression gentled. "Nor would I let you, brother mine."

They lapsed into silence, and Edward looked out the window, following the line of the Chicago River until they had to turn on Kinzie Street.

At Union Station, Edward kept Alice's arm laced through his, making sure she could not stray too far from him. There were a lot of people on the platform, and that kind of crowd made him subtly uncomfortable.

When they heard the whistle of the right train, Edward finally felt a thrill of excitement. Alice let go of his arm, beginning to smooth down her dress though nothing was crooked or out of place. Suddenly very twitchy, Edward reached up to readjust his hat and checked that the chain of his pocket watch was still attached.

The engine groaned and wheezed. Edward grinned broadly when he realized that Emmett was hanging from the doorway of one of the first class cars, scanning the crowd. When he spotted them, he hopped down before the train came to a full stop.

"Emmy," Alice squealed, in her delight calling her brother the name she had when she was a very small child and couldn't pronounce his full name.

"Ally girl," he returned, slinging his one arm around her waist and twirling her around.

After a long hug, Emmett turned to his little brother. "Edward," he nodded, grinning hugely.

"Emmett," Edward returned, taking his brother's hand and squeezing tightly.

Obviously not caring about how such a show of emotion was unbecoming of gentlemen, Emmett pulled his little brother into a hug just as tight and fierce as he had with their sister.

By then the train had come to a proper stop, and people were beginning to pour off. Emmett turned, stepping back to the doorway in time to help Rosalie from the step.

It seemed to Edward that he had not seen Rosalie since he was thirteen or so, over a decade ago. She'd been there when Emmett was injured and again at Carlisle's funeral, but both times, Edward had not truly stopped to look at her, distracted by war or struck by grief.

Rosalie was truly a breathtakingly stunning woman. Even standing as she was in a dress suitable for travel, holding her tiny baby daughter in her arms, she turned more than one head. Edward saw no trace of the traumatized girl from his memories. She stood tall and proud, pristine in her pale yellow dress. Her eyes, he noticed, darted around, but she seemed to get more comfortable when she only recognized Edward and Alice.

"Rosalie," Edward greeted, kissing her cheek with his hand on her arm.

"Edward," she nodded. "I was sorry to hear you were injured. We wanted to go to you, but..." she trailed off, looking down at the baby in her arms with a soft smile.

"I was well taken care of," he assured before looking down at his little niece. "Hello, little one," he said softly, running the pad of his finger along her tiny hand. Charlotte did not react, still fast asleep despite all the bustle around her. "She is gorgeous," he said, looking up at his sister-in-law.

Beside her, Emmett chuckled. "Prettiest baby on God's green earth," he declared, absolutely beaming with pride.

Edward shook his head, smiling indulgently at his brother.

They chatted for a few minutes. Alice and Rosalie bent their heads together as Alice asked for some details about their impromptu wedding and how they came to choose the name Charlotte.

Gesticulating as he told the story of how he came to be injured in Houston, Edward was surprised when his brother's hand darted out, grabbing his wrist.

"What's this?" Emmett asked, his eyes wide.

Edward followed his gaze to his simple gold wedding band. "What does it look like?" he asked, perplexed at his brother's actions.

"You're married?"

"Just a little over a month ago," Edward confirmed. "Did Mother not tell you?"

Emmett shook his head, his grin getting wide again. "No, but we moved from the place we were staying to a hotel these last few weeks," he mused. "I suppose, if she wrote, the letter may not have reached us. I didn't even know you were home except that Mother's telegraph said you would meet us at the station."

"There seems to be a lot of that going around," Edward muttered, remembering his shock when he found out about Emmett's marriage.

"My little brother is a married man," Emmett said incredulously. "How did that happen if you've only been home such a small amount of time."

"The woman being harassed by the three men?" Edward asked, verifying that Emmett had been paying attention to his story. "That was my Bella. She saved my life."

Emmett's eyes bulged. "You married a Texan?" he asked, his voice booming.

"Is that a problem?"

Emmett threw his head back, laughing. "No, little brother. That's not a problem. That is rather amusing though."

They had some time for Edward to tell him a truncated version of the story.

"I can hear the gossip now," Emmett said, chuckling. "Carlisle and Esme Cullen's children don't love reasonably. What must the neighbors think?" He glanced over at their little sister, watching as Rosalie passed Charlotte into her arms. "Makes you wonder about Alice, doesn't it?"

Edward didn't answer right away, but raised a hand to acknowledge Seth who'd signaled that the carriage was packed and ready to depart.

"The thought," he admitted, "has crossed my mind."

**~0~**

Back at home, there were tears - mostly his mother's - and introductions.

Peter charmed everyone when he was drawn out from behind Bella's skirts, curious about the squalling coming from the bassinet. He stood on his tiptoes and peered at little Charlotte, oblivious to the room full of adults watching him. His little face was the picture of awe, his lips rounded with something that seemed to be wonder. Looking up at Bella, he patted her side and pointed at the baby insistently, not settling until Rosalie obligingly picked her up, settling down with her on the sofa so Peter could get a better look.

At dinner, Emmett declined the spot Edward offered at the head of the table, sitting beside their mother instead.

They all talked well into the night, everyone familiarizing themselves with the new shape of their family.

Eventually, the women all turned in, leaving Emmett and Edward alone in the parlour with sifters of brandy.

"You're lucky she took pity on you," Emmett told him of Bella. "She's pretty."

"She's beautiful," Edward corrected. "And thank you. Yes. I'm very lucky to have found her."

They were both quiet for a minute, Edward watching the ice in his glass dwindle to mere specs. "It's strange how completely everything can change so suddenly," he murmured. "At the beginning of this year, I couldn't guess that I would be sitting here in July, a married man with my married brother."

Emmett snorted lightly. "I know what you mean. I barely finished my degree before Charlotte came. I've known for a long time that I wanted to marry Rosalie, but now that it's happened..." He shook his head and smiled. "Sometimes, I think it's all a dream," he admitted.

Edward nodded, understanding that emotion all too well.

"I meant to thank you earlier for your hospitality," Emmett said with an air of formality. "I don't plan to take advantage of your good graces for long."

Furrowing his eyebrows, Edward ran over those words in his head to make sure he hadn't drunk so much brandy that he was mistaking their meaning. "This is your home, Emmett. That won't ever change. I'm not sure I have to tell you that you are always welcome here." He looked down. "It's your birthright. You know I wouldn't fight you if you wanted the house. It should have gone to you anyway."

"No," Emmett said sharply. "It's your house. You've earned that much."

"The only thing I've done with my life is shed blood for my country, which is only what should be expected of any man, and it seems to me you've given a great deal more than that," Edward protested, gesturing at Emmett's missing arm.

Emmett shook his head. "I got taken out of battle too soon to say I did my part. Shiloh was very early on. I was sitting in classrooms and escorting Rosalie to parties while you were sleeping on the ground and getting shot at." He put up his hand when Edward started to protest. "No. As I told Mother, my mind is made up." He smirked slightly. "I trust you won't slam the door in my face if I ever need to come crawling back, but I would rather try to make my own way for now."

Edward frowned, not liking the idea of Emmett not taking his fair share, but he didn't press the matter. His brother could make his own decisions, and Edward would respect that. "What are your intentions, then?"

Leaning back in his chair, Emmett stroked his chin, tilting his head and looking a great deal more serious than Edward ever remembered his brother being. "You've always been better at planning than I have," he began slowly. "Hear me out, and then you can tell me if I'm an idiot."

At that, Edward had to laugh. "You're an idiot," he said dutifully. "But let's hear these plans of yours."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:Weee. I'm off to Yosemite. Thank you to barburella and jadedandboring and all you fine people. MWAH.**


	15. Party

"Come, my children. Let me look on my beautiful family."

At the Cullen family matriarch's direction, Edward held his arm out, smiling widely as Bella took his invitation. Together, they went to go stand in front of the the mirror that stretched along nearly the entire wall of the ballroom.

Tilting his head, Edward studied his family in the mirror.

At one end, Emmett stood proudly. He was the tallest and broadest among them. His hair, the same cinnamon shade as their mother's, was a mass of thick curls cut close to his head. His fine features guaranteed he'd be handsome, but his dimpled grin made him devilishly good looking. Despite the sleeve that hung only part of the way down, neatly pinned where his muscular arm used to be, he didn't seem maimed but whole just as he was.

Beside him, holding his right arm with her left and their tiny daughter in her right, Rosalie was much changed from the traumatized girl of his memories. These last few days, Edward had learned she had a dark humor that was the polar opposite of Emmett's more sunny disposition. Like his own wife, Rosalie could not be characterized as meek, but she was more rough where Bella was mild. She was unquestionably, ethereally beautiful, even more so because she wore her gold spun hair tumbled down her back - a daring move as wives and mothers typically stuck to more conservative up-dos.

But then, Edward had no doubt that was done on purpose.

Alice stood to Rosalie's right. She was Rosalie in reverse: miniature where Rose was statuesque, vivacious where Rose was aloof, hair black as pitch and curled into a mass of tight coils where Rose's hair was straight and so blond it was nearly white. Her grin was cheeky, her eyes sparkling like she knew something no one else knew and was just itching to tell everyone about it. Edward had absolutely no doubt that she would catch the eye of every single man in the room and the vast majority of the adulterous married ones as well.

In between Alice and Edward, Esme Cullen stood proudly. She'd aged gracefully, the picture of the elegant lady with silver streaked hair in a refined coif. Privately, Edward knew her grief over her husband's death was crippling. Outwardly, she was what every widow wished they could be - poised and calm. She was everything a well brought up lady should be, which made her complete, unconditional acceptance of her daughters-in-law all the more impressive to Edward.

Finally, Edward let his gaze fall on the woman who stood to his side, her free hand resting on little Peter's shoulder. She caught his eye in the mirror and smiled, making his body feel warm, like he was laying by a comforting fire. Dressed in a brand new, deep blue gown, with her hair coiled up on top of her head, tendrils coming down on either side to frame her face, she was unbearably exquisite. He understood fully his father's words from so many years ago. That she chose him, that it was him and him alone she looked at like that, was a gift, and he felt nothing but unbearably lucky.

All things considered, even taking into account a stab to the gut, Edward would have told anyone he got the better part of the bargain.

He looked at the reflection of his family and smiled, a deep sense of satisfaction settling over him. "We should arrange for a family portrait soon," he murmured.

"Yes," Esme said with a grin. "Though perhaps we will have to just take another portrait in a year, if our family's shape changes again." She eyed Edward and Bella significantly, smiling knowingly when they looked at each other and blushed.

**~0~**

Amongst blue bloods, most any perceived shortcoming was excused with the word 'dear'. As in, 'there goes, Nathan. He likes to wear women's rouge whilst being walloped with a wooden spoon, the dear boy'.Folks might shake their heads and sigh, but as long as one was a member of the club one was generally accepted and excused.

There were exceptions to this rule.

The word 'decency' was bandied about frequently amongst the upper crust, and they all shook their heads at sordid things like courtesans or women that acknowledged sex at all openly. Many 'decent' people would walk the other direction rather than be caught on the same street as a known lady of the night.

So, even as a member of their most elite club, Rosalie was looked on with disdain. Many tolerated her because they had to - they had no reason not to respect Emmett and she was now his wife. There was much gossip that she had seduced and trapped the poor, innocent Cullen boy with a baby, and some women went as far as to steer their husbands away from the part of the room she inhabited.

It was hard to tell if Bella had it better or worse. Unlike Rosalie, she was not a natural member of their rank, and beside that, she was a Southerner. She was an outsider on several levels and though they had no way of knowing how she had come to be married to one of Chicago's most sought after bachelors, that fact didn't stop them from attacking her virtue behind her back.

Edward thought it was a pity Men's fashion didn't lend itself to much difference. If you'd seen one black suit, you'd seen them all. That was, perhaps, why the two ladies he heard whispering cattily to each other didn't seem to realize that their host - brother-in-law and husband to the women they were verbally ripping to pieces - was right behind them.

"Oh, it's a scandal. Did you see at dinner when the servant signaled to her? Do you know what she was doing?" one hissed.

"I try to think as little as possible as to what Rosalie Hale - excuse me - Cullen," she said the word scathingly, "does."

The first woman's voice dropped considerably. "She was feeding the baby. You know. Feeding it," her voice was rife with disgust. "I've never heard of such poor taste. As if we're cattle, not women."

"Terrible," the second woman agreed. "Emmett seems like such a nice boy. I wonder..."

"It's best not to wonder how a woman traps a man like that. My goodness, the thought makes me faint." She sighed and shook her head. "The poor, dear boy. He can't be blamed."

"Boys will be boys, after all. Rosalie must have known he was in a vulnerable position, what with his arm. Ghastly. So ghastly."

"Mmm, yes. And then Edward, so far away from home. If he'd had a sweetheart here... Ah, well. You remember my Jessica was so sweet on him, but he's always been a distracted boy."

"The girl, what is her name. Betty? She knew. She must have known he came from money. I wouldn't put it past her to have staged that attack."

At that, what little patience Edward had snapped. He turned, fully intent on unleashing a few choice of words of his own, but was stopped by a strong grip on his arm.

"Edward," Emmett said loudly, and out of the corner of his eye, Edward saw the ladies jump a mile. "There's someone I want you to introduce you to."

Standing from where he'd been sitting, Edward nodded at his brother and turned around to face the ladies who were looking appropriately mortified. "Her name is Bella," he said serenely, smiling at them as if he genuinely hoped their memories would improve, and strode off beside his brother.

Out of sight of the women, Edward let out a long breath. "It's impolite to raise your voice to a lady, right?"

"I have trouble defining those women as ladies." For once, Emmett didn't chuckle. His jaw looked taut. "Mother would be ashamed of us if we didn't hold our tempers. Just remember that. And it would not make things better for our wives." He breathed deeply. "We're just new, that's all. They will find something else to talk about soon enough."

"And it might be prudent to our agenda not to make enemies of the wives of the men we wish to do business with," Edward reminded grudgingly.

"There is that. Mrs. Stanley's husband is a partner at the firm I've made inquiries to," Emmett said thoughtfully.

Edward sighed, calming. "I'd hoped... Well, I know Bella has been lonely. She has Alice and Mother, but I'd hoped she could find some friends here."

"Well, they're not all bad, now are they?" Emmett said, his good humor returning. "Mrs. Stanley's lovely daughter seems to be getting on with Bella just fine." he nodded his head across the room where Jessica was indeed talking with Bella. They were both smiling.

"Hmmmm," Edward hummed. He'd had extensive dealings with Jessica before he'd gone off to West Point. She was sickeningly saccharine in a way that smacked of falseness to Edward. But that had been many years ago. It was uncharitable to assume she hadn't changed.

Downing what was left of a sifter of whiskey, Edward closed his eyes as the liquid burned a path down his throat.

When he opened his eyes, he felt a lot calmer.

"Come then," Emmett said, slapping him on the back. "There is someone I want to introduce you to. Be nice. Some day, I'll be able to do whatever I want with my own practice. Until then, we should keep our noses relatively clean until I build some respectability."

"Relatively," Edward echoed. He had plans of his own that his peers might or might not approve of.

"Relatively," Emmett agreed, grinning wickedly.

_**~0~**_

Edward thought that if all anyone could talk to him about was his wife, he may as well be by her side. He had been trying to mingle, but the conversation inevitably turned to his pretty, southern belle.

It was slightly irritating. They were nice about it, that much was true, but many of his peers seemed to think Bella went about wrapped in a Confederate flag, lamenting the lack of the small army of slaves she'd, apparently, left behind in Texas.

That and many were curious about how he'd gotten his new wife to accept his bastard child to raise.

That particular question had made Edward choke on his drink.

Fidelity was not the rule amongst his society, it was the exception. Enjoying sex was not considered ladylike, and above all things, well bred women considered themselves to be ladies. Often, particularly after they had the all important boy, many men didn't like to bother their wives with an act they, at best, considered distasteful.

While youthful indiscretions, among boys and men, were considered inevitable, and those children quietly provided for, it was thought to be in poor taste to let wives discover affairs and any further bastards.

So, the man who, leaning close so as to be discrete, asked how Edward had managed to converge his two lives, he did so with honest curiosity.

After he explained Peter's true parentage, he excused himself to find his wife.

"Why my dear!" Edward entered the parlour in time to hear Katie Marshal exclaim. "You've not been to Greece. Why, that's terrible. It's simply a must, darling, a must!"

"Everyone who's anyone has been to Greece," Lauren Mallory agreed, looking down her obnoxiously long nose to examine Bella. "You must not have been raised wealthy, poor darling," she cooed with mock sympathy.

Glowering, Edward began to step forward, but a hand on his arm stopped him.

Giving him a significant look, Rosalie stepped by him, up to the three women.

"Well!" she said, loud enough to get their attention. "Miss Mallory. How long has it been now?"

"Mrs. Cullen," Lauren said with a nod.

"I didn't see you at dinner, dear," Rosalie continued.

"Yes, well, I was somewhat delayed. Austin - that's my beau," she explained to Bella, "had some work to catch up on."

"From what I understand, your dear Mr. Marks works late quite often," Rosalie said, her expression the picture of innocence. "How very strange for a banker. He must be very dedicated."

Lauren's smile faltered. She cleared her throat. "I was just telling your sister-in-law that she absolutely must get to Greece. I can't imagine! Such a rich history. And the artistry. I just loved seeing the David."

"Greece is quite beautiful," Rosalie agreed. "As for the David... Well, I think it must be very cold in Greece."

Edward had to clap a hand over his mouth to cover his snort, especially since Miss Mallory looked so perplexed.

Smiling like the cat who got the canary, Rosalie turned to Bella. "Ah, Bella. There is a minor kitchen mishap that needs attending, I came to tell you," she said, and Edward had never wanted to hug his sister-in-law more. She was not so subtly reminding Lauren that Bella was her hostess and the lady of the house. The title alone demanded her respect.

"Thank you," Bella nodded, standing. "Please excuse me, ladies."

She stepped away quickly, leaving Rosalie to deal with Lauren and Katie, and smiled widely when she saw him in the doorway, her look one of relief. Edward fell into step beside her, his hand at the small of her back.

"How are you doing, dear one?" he murmured, ducking his head so he could talk low to her ear.

"Well, actually," she said sincerely. "It's slightly daunting," she admitted when he glanced at her, "but not completely terrible."

Edward chuckled. "I would think that might sum up life with me, wouldn't it?"

Double checking to make sure they could not be seen by their guests, Bella wrapped her arms around his waist, standing on her tiptoes to place a small kiss on his lips. "Slightly daunting perhaps," she said, smiling up at him, "but wonderful."

Not giving a damn about propriety and the fact that his mother would be scandalized if she caught them, Edward pulled her tight against him, kissing her more thoroughly. "Wonderful indeed," he mumbled against her lips.

_**~0~**_

Eventually, the women and men split off, and though he was loathe to follow the men into the sitting room, Edward really had no choice in the matter. This was what grown men did, after all, and he was a grown man.

There, the topic quickly turned to politics. There was much talk in Congress about readmitting the Southern states to the Union and what restrictions should be placed on them. It was the popular belief that any Confederate soldier should not be allowed to take or hold a political office, effectively crippling the South politically for the foreseeable future.

There was much to clean up and many pools of thought on how to do it. The topic of conversation turned from the South in general to the so called 'colored problem'. The rights of colored men were being heavily examined and discussed. Among other things, there was rampant talk about giving them the right to vote.

A great many were not comfortable with this idea. The conversation shifted again when someone brought up a recent editorial that had run in many national newspapers. Mrs. Elizabeth Cady Stanton was outraged at the idea, but not for the same reasons as many of her fellow wives and mothers.

"She is a disgrace to the bastion of womanhood!" one man declared. Edward had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. "The idea of women voting... It's just unseemly. Women don't think of such things."

"You think a woman has any less thought about the rules and regulations of the society around her?" Edward couldn't help but ask, raising an eyebrow as he leaned back to avoid the mist of cigar smoke that permeated the room.

The elder gentlemen regarded Edward warily. "You would be comfortable with your wife making decisions that effected our country, sir?"

Edward tapped on his lips, thinking his answer through carefully. "I cannot say I've given much thought to the idea of women's suffrage, but I can't say the idea disgusts or outrages me." He looked up, leveling the other man with a cool expression. "I had occasion to lunch with your son just the other day, Mr. Banner. He admitted to me that he had trouble organizing which debts of his had yet to be paid, but since he'd taken a wife, his monetary affairs were well organized and his ledgers balanced." He shrugged easily, smiling friendlily to counter Mr. Banner's scowl.

A snicker from the back of the room. "Doubtless his dear wife has taken care of his ledgers by wiping his bank account clean, as women are wont to do," came a voice that made Edward's hair prickle at the back of his neck.

The man must have slipped in at some point during the debate because Edward had no idea, before that time, he was in the house. He had to grip the edge of his chair to keep himself from standing, grabbing the man by his collar, and throwing him bodily out the door.

"Ah, James. You did make it after all. Better late than never," one of the older gentlemen chuckled, standing and going to where the blond haired man stood, leaning against the back wall, still in his coat and hat.

He took the younger man's arm, leading him forward. "Edward, gentlemen, this is my new associate, Mr. James Hunter, formerly of Richmond, come back to his family on his mother's side."

"Mr. Cullen and I are well acquainted, actually. He and I served in the same battalion in the early days of the war," James said easily. He nodded at Edward. "I'd not heard from you, my friend. I might have feared the worst until Mr. Cope invited me along to this party. I'm sorry I couldn't make it sooner."

Swallowing his fury, Edward put on a more relaxed smile. "Mr. Hunter. It's good to see you came out of the fray unscathed. Seth," he called to the boy who was standing unobtrusively against the side wall. "Won't you take Mr. Hunter's coat?" He turned back to James, reminding himself of his duties as host. "How does your beautiful wife?"

It was James Hunter whose home Edward had had occasion to visit the first Christmas after the war began. Victoria Hunter was a pretty thing, far too young to be married, in his always humble opinion. She seemed skittish and frightened, which Edward hadn't understood until he'd seen James press her up against the wall, taking her right there in the hallway in front of his bedroom, despite her mewling protests.

Edward's stomach churned in revulsion, and he had the urge to check on Bella and his sisters.

"Victoria is well," James said with a broad grin. "She finally managed to give me a boy this time around. Riley. He's six months old now."

"Then you have daughters?"

James barked a laugh. "Just the one, thankfully. Bree is three, perhaps." He waved a dismissive hand.

He turned then to address the gathered men. "As for Mrs. Stanton, I'd advise you gentlemen not to worry. She is but one woman. The most we can do is write her husband with the suggestion that a beating with a buggy whip might benefit her disposition immensely."

Some of the men chuckled heartily. Edward glanced and Emmett and shared his grimace of disgust.

"Don't worry. It will be a cold day in hell before Congress considers opening the vote to women," James assured.

"Just one more reason why I'm glad to have our good Mr. Hunter as a partner," Mr. Cope said approvingly. "James has aspirations of a career in the political arena." He patted James's shoulder. "Perhaps some day soon, we will see your name on the ballot, son."

There were murmurs of assent, and so Edward stayed quiet, silently seething.

His first thought was that he would do anything and everything in his power to make sure that James Hunter never played a hand in the governing of his city, state, or country.

_**~0~**_

Finally, finally, the last guest was gone. Edward returned from outside, shaking off the chill of the evening, and followed the sounds of laughter back to the den where his family was gathered.

"Where's Mother?" he asked Emmett as he stepped over to where Bella was sitting, resting his hands on her shoulders. She lifted a hand, clasping his warmly.

"Ah, I took her upstairs to bed hours ago," Emmett said, waving a hand.

Edward shook his head. "I didn't even notice."

"Everything went fabulous," Alice enthused. "Just everyone was talking about you Bella!"

Bella grimaced. "So I noticed."

"Oh, it wasn't bad," Alice chided. "They were intrigued by you. Oh, it's true, some of the girls insist on doing their little dance, strutting around and showing off because they're not the center of attention, but that will pass."

"Jessica Stanley was quite nice, and I genuinely enjoyed Angela Weber's company," Bella allowed amiably.

"Well, there will be plenty of time to get to know everyone who's anyone, I'm sure," Alice said, always smiling. "Edward. I've been thinking, I'd like to throw Peter a party for his birthday next month."

"Alice," Edward groaned. "I don't want to talk about parties just yet."

"And then our Christmas Ball, of course. Oh, goodness it's been so long since we've had a proper ball!" Alice exclaimed, ignoring him.

"Christmas Ball?" Bella echoed.

"Yes," Edward said, squeezing her shoulders. "Did you think the ballroom upstairs was just for show?"

"I didn't think about it much at all, actually."

A thought occurred to Edward and he stepped around the chair, pulling Bella upright. With his arms around her, he began to dance her around the den. "I think I would not mind a ball," he said aloud, thinking that it would be nice to have an excuse not to let her out of his arms for a night.

Bella laughed breathlessly. "You've been drinking," she accused, and clucked at him. "Please excuse us," she said to the rest of the family, resting her hands against his chest. "It seems it's time for me to put my husband to bed."

Edward couldn't stop smiling long enough to glare at Emmett's snicker. That was, far and away, the best idea he'd heard all night.

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><p><strong>AN: Huge thanks to GinnyW for beta work :) and thanks to Kismet for answering a few questions for me. And thanks to Barburella for leaving cackling in my docs. Hehe.**


	16. Moving Forward

**A/N: Mah bad, guys. Two of you called me on this. I changed the whole section with Rosalie/Lauren so many times that I got confused. I said Greece. I meant Italy, where I know the David is.**

**Darlings, don't you know? Everyone has been to Italy. Everyone.**

**To answer your question, Italy not Greece, Rosalie was just playing Lauren's game - cat scratching with innocent expressions. Neither one of them is doing any lasting damage.**

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><p>Edward was quite certain that his wife had absolutely no idea he was watching her. Actually, he was quite sure that Bella was oblivious to just about everything and anyone. From the look on her face, the house had faded away entirely, and she was transported to the world of whatever book she had in her hand.<p>

The image had struck him.

Often, in his boyhood, he'd come across his father in the exact same pose Bella was in now, sitting upon the office's window seat, his feet propped up, a book in his lap, and faraway expression on his face.

Carlisle would have loved Bella.

Watching the way his wife reacted with her whole face - her eyes widening, her lips pursing, her cheek twitching with a smile - as she read, Edward instantly wished he'd paid more attention to the books in his father's study. He laughed at himself inwardly, realizing that more than one gentleman he knew would be aghast at the idea of a woman who read, let alone who knew more than he did about... well... anything.

With a private grin, he strode into the room, making his presence known. "Well, well, Mrs. Cullen. What are you doing with my father's books?"

Bella started, obviously being brought out of her own little world and into the present. She tucked the book up against her chest protectively. "I'm sorry. Should I not be in here?"

Edward chuckled, perching on the edge of the window seat. "You may be in here whenever you wish. This is your house. I was only teasing you."

Tilting her head, Bella's lips quirked up. "Would your father mind me playing with his books?"

"Not at all," he assured. "Quite the contrary, reading was a particular passion of his. Too long these books have gone on gathering dust. He would love that you're taking advantage of them."

Grinning wickedly at her, he leaned over, plucking the book from her hand. "However, it is my duty as your husband to be sure that what you're reading is proper."

She rolled her eyes but smiled at him patiently.

Clearing his throat, he read randomly from the page.

"'I am alone and miserable; man will not associate with me; but one as deformed and horrible as myself would not deny herself to me. My companion must be of the same species and have the same defects. This being you must create.'" Furrowing his brow, he looked at the title of the book. "Frankenstein: The Modern Prometheus," he read. "Mr. Frankenstein doesn't think much of himself, does he?"

She took the book back from him, tutting lightly. "Frankenstein is the doctor. What is speaking is his hideous creation."

"Ah, I see," he murmured, becoming more interested in touching the pads of his fingers along her cheeks and lips. "That is a novel approach, I suppose. If you cannot find a companion, just make one." He kissed her chastely. "I'm glad I didn't have to go through such lengths."

She drew in a shaky breath, her cheeks tinged pink from his touch. "No, not such great lengths. It only took a near deadly wound for you to find me."

He hummed easily, stroking her cheek. "I'd rather suffer that wound a thousand times over than not have been there," he said fervently. It was unthinkable - what would have happened.

How close he came to never remembering she existed at all.

Kissing her soundly, his hand against her cheek, Edward didn't hear the tell tale swish of skirts approaching. "Ma'am, I- Oh! I'm so sorry!"

Edward and Bella parted quickly, finding a young maid in the doorway, bowing her head.

"I'll er... I..." the young lady stumbled.

"It's fine, Mary," Bella assured, clearing her throat and smoothing her skirts. "What is it that you need?"

"Well, Mrs. Cullen. I am sorry to bother, but Cook wishes to make stew tonight and needs to send someone to the butcher for mutton," the young girl said, still looking down and blushing furiously.

"I'll get the money out of the cashbox," Bella said, moving to rise.

"No. Stay," Edward entreated. "I've business about the marketplace. Send Seth to ready the buggy," he said to the maid.

"Yes, Sir."

Bella chuckled, the sound somewhat wry, as Mary hurried away. "Whenever someone calls me Mrs. Cullen and looks to me to make a decision for the household, I still have the urge to send them to your mother."

Some weeks previous, Esme had begun turning servants away with a succinct, "You may direct your questions to Mrs. Cullen," when they needed something.

When Bella had protested, Esme could not be dissuaded. "You are the lady of this house, dear," she'd said, patting Bella's hand.

And that was that. Perhaps Bella was the lady of the house, but no one argued with Esme Cullen.

~0~

After Edward handed the appropriate amount to Seth to go into the butcher, Edward strolled leisurely down the street to the Ggrocer.

"Mr. Cullen!" The grocer called, waiving his hand in greeting.

Edward grinned. "Good day, Mr. Jenks," he said, nodding. "Might you have a few minutes to discuss a matter of business?"

The older man looked wary. Since that day he'd lead little Seth into the market, Jason Jenks wasn't all that fond of the youngest Cullen brother. But the Cullens meant big money, and so Jenks wouldn't speak out. "As you say, sir. Max!" he called to the boy - perhaps sixteen or so - that had been stacking a new display "Mind the store."

Jenks gestured to the the back room where he offered Edward something to drink.

Politely declining, Edward took a breath, retaining an outward semblance of calm though he was quite nervous about what he was about to do.

"Let's cut to the quick, shall we?" Edward asked, waiting for Jenks' gesture before he continued. "I have a business proposal for you, sir."

"Do go on, Mr Cullen."

"Well, I find it is time I settle down and invest my money in worthwhile business ventures," he began. "Along that line, it occurs to me, in this changing world of ours, there are some things I'd like to see remain. What would you say, sir, if I said I had a mind to buy your fine establishment?"

Edward paused, smiling amiably as he let his offer settle in.

There was a benefit to his mother and sister being who they were. Esme and Alice knew absolutely everything about everyone. Because of that, they knew that the Jenks family had fallen into hard times when Mr. Jenks was away at the war. The store was struggling. It would likely soon fail.

"That's a very interesting idea," Jenks said, nodding and stroking his chin. "I can't picture you as a grocer, sir."

Edward chuckled. "Oh, you misunderstand me, Mr. Jenks. My aim is to be merely an owner. I would leave the management of the store up to you, with a handsome salary, of course."

The older man didn't look entirely pleased, but he didn't look like he was about to refuse outright. "Your offer is generous and very tempting. I have some concerns."

"I would imagine," Edward nodded, sweeping his hand out to indicate that Jenks should continue.

They discussed Jenks's concerns for the better part of an hour. Edward could tell that he wasn't pleased at the idea of handing over his business, but he was in dire straights. The offer Edward made was more than generous, and he knew it. Mainly, the man wanted to preserve his dignity, which Edward understood. He didn't want the name of the store to change, for instance, and wanted to be able to employ his boy.

Edward was amenable. He had his own aims which he didn't bring to light until he was getting up to leave.

"Oh, there is one more thing, Mr. Jenks."

The other gentleman waited, looking like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Always obliging, Edward put on a serene expression as he spoke. "I would like to make it clear up front, should you enter into this partnership, I shall expect certain concessions to be made to the way you run the business."

"Of course, Mr. Cullen. That is to be expected," Jenks said tightly. "But do you have something in particular in mind?"

"I do," Edward said evenly. "This store will be open to all those who have money to buy. Do you understand what I'm saying, sir?"

Jenks rather looked like he was going to be ill. "Do you mean to say you wish to allow redskins in my store?"

Edward tilted his head. "The Indians, darkies... anyone who has mind to pay for services, I intend to serve."

The other man swallowed hard, his expression turning to one of impatience. "Mr. Cullen, you are a gentleman of fine standing, at much higher office than I could ever hope to achieve. A gentleman such as yourself should not trouble himself with the running of a business. Leave such details to me. I and my family have been in this business longer than you've been on the good earth, sir. I know what people want."

"I realize I don't have experience running a business, Mr. Jenks." Edward kept his tone light, his expression steady. "However, in my experience, people of all kinds need groceries. One man's money is as good as another's to me."

Clearing his throat, Edward put his hat on. "In any event, those are my terms. Mull it over, if you will, and join my wife and me for dinner on Thursday night. If you are amenable to the decision, bring your ledgers, and we'll talk business after dinner. If not, well... what can I say? I do understand, and we will part as friends."

**~0~**

Emmett laughed as Edward entered. "You look like the cat that ate the canary, brother," he noted.

Smiling, quite pleased with himself, Edward sat across the table. "I may have bought a store today." He stroked his chin, tugging at the whiskers that had begun to grow there. "My very first investment."

"So Jenks was agreeable to your condition?" Emmett asked, raising a surprised eyebrow.

"Oh, of course not." Edward rolled his eyes. "But the offer I made is more than enough to quell his, er... delicate sensibilities." He shrugged. "I left the decision up to him. We shall know by Thursday. If he isn't agreeable... well... Perhaps I shall buy the lot across the street and build a store of my own."

"How devious," Emmett said with a laugh, his eyes returning to the paperwork in front of him.

Edward drummed his fingers lightly on the table, watching his brother work for a moment before he spoke. "You're liking work at your firm, then?" he inquired.

Emmett bobbed his head back and forth in a yes and no type of gesture.

"It is what it is," he said easily. "I believe the partners' first clients must have been Adam and Eve." He shook his head, looking slightly impatient. "The work is fine. Mostly they have me on some of the lighter cases - which means I get a lot of neighbors squabbling over land rights, but everyone has to start somewhere, I suppose."

Before Edward could respond, Emmett spoke again. "Of late, I've struck up a friendship with one of the clerks. He's about your age and, I think you may be as surprised as I am, he's an Indian."

Edward's eyebrows shot skyward. "Really?"

"Yes. I was surprised too. The partners speak the same game as most gentlemen," Emmett said the word derisively, "but it seems they can be sensible in individual circumstances. Jacob Black, it seems, stopped a pair of thieves who were in the midst of beating Mr. Green for his gold pocket watch."

"Is that what it takes?" Edward said wryly. "If a man can save your life, then the color of his skin begins not to matter so much, eh?"

"So it seems," Emmett nodded. "In any event. I find discussion with Mr. Black a great deal more tolerable than with Mr. Green or Mr. Banner," he mused, naming the partners of the firm where he'd been hired.

"Hmm," Edward hummed. "Well, bring him around for dinner soon, if it pleases you."

Emmett nodded his agreement.

"I know I've made this offer before," Edward began, looking at the paperwork Emmett had spread out, "but you needn't work at the dining room table. We can share father's office, or perhaps we should have one of the spare rooms refitted-"

Emmett held a hand up to stop Edward's diatribe. "Your office," he reminded. "And with the investments you have planned, you're going to need it."

"Actually, Edward, I've been meaning to discuss with you."

"Yes?"

"Well, little brother, there's only so much time I can feed off your good graces."

"Emmett," Edward began, exasperated.

Laughing, Emmett held up his hand again. "Regardless. My family deserves a space of their own. I've purchased a nice plot not so very far from here. Construction will begin straight away, but it will still be some months before we're out your way."

"You're not in our way," Edward insisted.

Emmett waggled his eyebrows. "Maybe not now, but soon enough, Edward, you're going to need your space. As it is, you have Mother, Alice, and Peter to contend with. Where do you expect to put your own children? I've seen the way you look at your wife. I'm surprised she isn't yet in the family way, or is it just that she's not showing?"

For some reason, Edward blushed at his brother's words, which made Emmett laugh raucously. He sat back in his chair, looking, as Emmett was prone to, quite happy.

"It took almost all of what I had saved and what was left of my inheritance, but it's a fine house I'm building. There's plenty of room for Charlotte and what little ones we might yet be blessed with. And yes, a study all my own," Emmett winked at Edward.

For a long moment, Edward was silent. "Well," he said finally. "Congratulations. You'll take me to see the property soon?"

"Certainly. Tomorrow before dinner, if you'd like."

"Have you told Mother yet?"

Emmett paused, his lips quirking downward. "Not yet," he admitted.

"Well, dinner might be interesting tonight," Edward muttered. "Hand her the blueprints. That will distract her. Mother has a good eye for such things - how rooms should be laid out and what kind of windows would look best in what light."

"That's a good idea," Emmett said, nodding. He shook his head. "In any event. Speaking of construction, have you had a chance to look into the land you need for the tenement buildings we discussed?"

"I have a few ideas. This weekend, we should take a ride. View the land for ourselves..."

The brothers sat, their heads bent together, planning and theorizing until the cook shooed them away, needing to get dinner on the table.

**~0~**

Some days later, Edward tiptoed into his bedroom, peering over the large bed to see if his wife was awake. To his immense relief, she seemed to be asleep. He was glad to find her resting.

He crept into the room carrying the ginger tea and crackers his mother had sent him up with. Careful not to let the glass clink, he set the saucer on the nightstand and sat carefully on the edge of the bed.

Her skin had a sickly green pallor to it still, he noted. She'd been horrendously sick to her stomach all of the last night and on through morning. It was afternoon now, and the sickness finally seemed to have passed long enough to let her rest.

He shifted on the bed and watched as the skin between her eyes knitted together in consternation and she groaned. "You will make me seasick if you keep moving," she grumbled, opening her eyes slowly.

"I'm sorry, love," he murmured, stroking his fingers down her clammy cheek. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"I wasn't really asleep," she said with a sigh. "I was just trying to be still."

He said nothing, but continued to stroke her cheek and trail his finger along her hairline. "Bella?" he asked softly. "Are you sure you won't let me call the doctor?"

Though she had been drowsing, Bella's eyes snapped open. "There's no need to bother the doctor."

"What if you're-"

"I'm not," she said firmly. "It was the clam chowder from the restaurant, that's all." She attempted to smile at him. "Perhaps my belly is still unaccustomed to such fine things like meals at restaurants."

When he didn't respond, she lifted her hand, the movement somewhat feeble, and rested it on his arm as she studied him. "Does that disappoint you?" she asked quietly.

He was quick to put on a smile, looking down on her. "Of course not." Carefully, he laid down beside her, trying his best not to jostle her. She grimaced slightly but seemed more content when she was curled against his side. "We've only been married these few months," he murmured, kissing the side of her head. "We have all the time in the world for all that."

"Mmmm," she hummed, mostly asleep. "I see you with Peter and Charlotte," she mumbled, her words slurred by approaching sleepy. "I know you want a child of your own."

"Yes, I want to hold a child of _ours _in my arms," he admitted. "We would make beautiful babies, Bella."

She hummed an affirmative response, her eyelashes fluttering closed. "Not today." The words were barely audible.

Chuckling, he kissed her forehead. "No," he agreed. "It can wait."

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><p><strong>AN: Many thanks to twitina for her help with this beta. Always thanks to barburella.**

**And thanks to all of you. MWAH. **


	17. As the World Turns

**A/N: Have I told you all lately that I love you?**

**Cuz I do.**

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><p><em>I will not be a jealous ass. I will not be a jealous ass. I will not be a jealous ass.<em>

Edward clutched the arm of his chair, trying not to glower. Beside him at the dinner table, his wife's head was turned not attentively toward him, but to the man who sat beside her, Jacob Black.

As Emmett had asserted, Jacob was a nice sort of man with a sunny disposition and a sense of humor that matched. Edward had liked him quite a bit on their first meeting.

Of course, his like for the man had soured somewhat when it became obvious how much he enjoyed Bella's company. And how much the sentiment was returned.

Taking a long, slow drink of his wine, Edward reminded himself just how hard things could be for Bella. Still an outsider, she didn't really have many friends outside of Alice and Esme. Those women who did call socially - Jessica and Angela chiefly - spoke, like most women, of the gossip about town and the business of keeping house. Neither subject held particular interest for Bella.

Jacob, on the other hand, was easy to talk to, and spoke to her with as much respect as he would any other man, taking her opinions into account carefully during any discussion. More than that, he made her laugh.

Many men in his position would have chafed at the attention Bella was paying to another man. It was a logically ridiculous notion that women could not have friends of the male persuasion. Edward had absolutely no doubt that his wife loved him, adored him even. He continuously told himself there was no reason why he should want to kick Jacob out of his house. Bella deserved friendship where she could get it.

He slipped his hand under the table, squeezing her knee briefly. Bella glanced over, seeming to realize she'd been talking to Jacob rather than to the rest of the table, and straightened in her seat.

Dinner continued without much issue, but Edward kept his hand at Bella's knee, occasionally squeezing. She didn't acknowledge his gesture, but she didn't push him away either.

Finally, Jacob began to make his goodbyes.

"You must join us for our Christmas Ball, Jacob," Alice said as she walked with him to the door. "It's three weeks from tomorrow."

He paused, looking from Alice to Edward and back again. "That's very kind of you, Miss Cullen, but are you sure that's what you want?"

As Jacob well knew, it was one thing to have an Indian man over for a private dinner. It was quite another to invite him to a party.

Quieting his admittedly irrational distaste for the man, Edward cleared his throat. "I'll see to it that you get an invitation," he said decisively.

Jacob's smile was brilliant. "A proper shindig, eh? Well, time to buy a new suit."

When he was gone and they were alone for the moment - the women in another part of the house, going about the business of preparing children and themselves for bed, Emmett clapped his little brother on the shoulder. "You've learned to control your temper somewhat," he said, his voice teasing. "I'm impressed. I thought you were going to leap across the table and take a swing at him."

Edward made a face at his brother. "What, and embarrass Mother?" He shook his head. "I need a drink."

"If my wife preferred the friendly company of men, I would need a drink too," Emmett said with a chuckle. "As it is, Rosalie is rarely fond of anyone."

He walked to the bar, pouring two tumblers of whiskey, and held one out to his brother. Edward took it, drinking it all and ignoring the burn in his throat.

"Incidentally, little brother, that wife of yours has eyes for no one but you," Emmett said lightly.

At that, Edward did smile. "Yes. I'm aware."

_**~0~**_

By the time the house was quiet and everyone had retired to their rooms, alcohol and foolish male territorial nature had been long simmering in the pit of Edward's belly. He was watching Bella as she sat in front of her vanity, brushing out and plaiting her hair.

That was the first sign he should have noticed. She didn't usually plait her hair. There was no point if he was just going to muss it again.

Still, that little fact didn't seep into his consciousness. He watched her, his gaze fiercely catlike, and she stared back at him in the mirror.

When she stood, he stood, and crossed the room. His hands on her shoulders, he leaned in to kiss her, but she turned her head, and his lips brushed only cheek.

Startled, he stepped back, his hands still on her arms. She turned back to him, her gaze steady.

"Is there something you wish to tell me?"

He blinked, his mind muddled by the alcohol. He tried for his most seductive grin. "Speaking is not forefront in my mind at the moment." He tried to kiss her again only to be met with the side of her head once more. This time, he stepped away from her entirely.

She'd folded her arms and was staring at him pointedly.

He sighed, running his hand through his hair and feeling out of sorts. "Do you have something you wish to say to me?" he deflected.

Scrunching her nose, she walked to their bed and sat, looking up at him. "I thought I was imagining it the last time Jacob was here, but now I know I'm not."

"Imagining what?" he asked tightly.

"You glare at him," she snapped. "Edward, if you don't wish me to speak to him, that is your right to ask. I will obey, though I can guarantee I will not be happy about it."

"I..." Frustrated, Edward blew out a long breath. "That's not what I want."

She stood, splaying her hands on his chest. "Tonight, you looked at me like I was something you owned, like you were looking at me just a moment ago. You've never made me feel like that."

His hands at her waist, he tugged her closer. "Do you remember what you told me the first day on the train before we were married?"

Her glare faltered.

"You are mine as I am yours," he reminded her. "You know I don't think I own you."

She arched an eyebrow. "As you must know that Jacob Black is harmless. Not he, nor any other man, is a threat to you."

Edward's laugh was hard, and he pulled her up against him, wrapping her in his arms. "I wish that were true," he murmured. "But there are forces yet that may conspire to take you away from me, and so I am wary." Spinning her around lightly, he stepped her backward until she was leaning against the wall and he was leaning into her. "He does look at you that way, you know. As if the thought has crossed his mind."

Winding her arms around him, she stroked the back of his neck. "I think you are mistaken. Either way, looking and acting are two different things." She regarded him curiously, breathing in deep. "If it truly makes you unhappy for me to speak to him-"

"It makes me unhappy to think of you unhappy," he murmured, tilting his head to nip lightly at her neck. "The thought of any other man thinking of you like this..." His fingers tugged up at her sides, hiking her nightgown up, exposing her shapely thighs. "I'm sorry, my love. The things you do to me, I can't always explain."

She said nothing, but whimpered when he kissed her, arching her body up against him, tugging him closer.

"Do you forgive me," he asked, hitching her leg up on his waist. He kissed her again. "Forgive me."

"Perhaps," she said, her voice breathy.

He chuckled because he knew he was forgiven. Still, he snaked his hand between them, cupping her over her gown. He watched her to make sure she wasn't uncomfortable. They were both still so new at this, discovering together what their proper upbringings could never teach them.

He was learning she wasn't made of glass, that she welcomed his touch, and was not, as some pretty prose might have believe, as tender and fragile as a flower. She was learning that it was not so undesirable an attribute to be an active participant in their love making.

"Forgive me," he asked again, the words ending in a low moan when her hands tugged at his pants, pulling them down.

"Perhaps," she said again.

They didn't make it as far as their bed that evening. Instead, Edward pulled Bella down on the carpet by the fire.

After all, the night was chilly. It wouldn't do to have his wife catch cold.

**~0~**

Every other week or so found Edward in the small back office of the grocery store he now owned, going over ledgers and otherwise seeing to the business end of things.

As per usual, Mr. Jenks had left a small stack of letters dead center on the desk. This had become his habit - his not so subtle statement - after he'd argued himself blue in the face and come to the conclusion that Edward could not be shaken in his desire to open his store to all peoples. Jenks gritted his teeth and, at Edward's express direction, treated all people who patronized the store with respect. However, when letters arrived - which they frequently did - protesting Edward's decision and further withdrawing patronage from the store, he left these front and center so Edward could not ignore them.

And Edward did not ignore them. Every day he sat down, he took those letters, put them into his briefcase, and went about business. Each were answered with the utmost politeness and sincerity. Each writer was assured that Edward thanked them in the highest for looking out for his establishment - which many of them swore would be ripped to pieces by the various savage races - and thanked them for their past purchases. He wished them sincere luck in establishing a relationship with some other grocer, and added that he was sorry to see them go... especially as he had recently acquired this or that item that he knew was of particular interest to them.

The ploy had a mildly good success rate, but those customers that did not get over their aversion did not bother Edward. Those that boycotted his store were welcome to do so. Profits continued to rise, given the increase in patrons the store saw.

Privately, he'd sat through several dinners where he'd had to nod politely, pretending to be truly listening to impassioned pleas of what a good, holy man would do. Likewise, Bella had taken tea with many a concerned wife and mother begging her to talk sense into her husband.

He knew that the gossip mongers thought him foolish and pig-headed. They melodramatically talked amongst themselves that this would surely bring ruination and squalor to their prim, pristine lives.

It was going on two months since Edward had taken over the store and, despite their dramatics, life seemed to go on as normal.

"You've another dissenter, sir," Jenks commented, stepping into the office one afternoon.

Edward glanced up. "Well, add the letter to today's pile, and I'll deal with it when I get home," he entreated.

"This one has come in person. Mr. James Hunter wishes to speak with you presently."

It took some effort for Edward to keep the distaste from his expression. He'd had thankfully little exposure to James and wished to keep it that way. "Fine," he said slowly, setting his pen down. "Send him in."

Hunter appeared a moment later, all charming, dangerous grins. They shook hands, and Edward offered a drink. They sat down across from each other, too close in the small space for Edward's comfort.

"How is that sweet little wife of yours, Edward?" James asked, and Edward had to taper down the urge to punch the other man in the jaw at the slow smile that spread across his face.

"She is well, thank you."

"You haven't managed to get her big in the belly yet, eh? I'll admit, I'd have no patience for that sort of thing. As luck would have it, Victoria conceived very shortly after our wedding," the man said conversationally.

Edward bristled. He hated the way this man spoke, as if his wife was a breeding mare instead of a person. And how ignorant he sounded - as if Bella was failing at some task by not having conceived a child as of yet. "Mr. Hunter," he said through clenched teeth. "Mr. Jenks intimated that you had some business with me."

James looked amused at Edward's deflection, but nodded. "Then let's cut the pleasantries and get right to it, shall we? I'm curious, Edward, as to what you think you're getting at, doing what you're doing here. Is it your aim to upset people?"

"I'm not sure what you mean. This is a grocers. My aim here is to sell groceries."

"Edward," James chastised. "You know of what I speak. Your clientele leaves much to be desired. It's not right, what you're doing, bringing filth to such a beautiful neighborhood as ours."

At that, Edward had to chuckle.

"You find your actions humorous, sir?" James asked, his voice hardening slightly.

"My actions?" Edward returned easily. "No. I find my actions that of a man wishing to turn a profit like any other. What I find humorous is the idea that my clientele is, as you say, filth. You have a negro servant, do you not?"

"Yes. Charles. His mother was my father's slave."

Edward grimaced but didn't comment further. "When Charles is in his uniform, he frequented this store to purchase goods for your household. Now, he can come here after hours to purchase goods for his own family. Really, Mr. Hunter, what is so filthy about a man providing for his family?"

The conversation continued for a time in this vein - James trying to get Edward to see the error of his ways and Edward mildly pointing out the illogical thought process that the color of a man's skin dictated his behavior.

"Let me put this another way," James finally said. "I will be clear with my intentions. It's my desire to find a place in the running of our great state and further, our great country. The world is changing, my friend. You'll want to be on the right side of that change." He tilted his head, the look in his eyes glinting with a spark of veiled anger. "I would hate to think you and your family might be ruined by your poor choices today."

Edward sat stewing in the little office for a long time after James left. There was no part of him that was scared by James's subtle threat. In fact, he was livid. More than ever, the idea of James finding his way to the political arena seemed like it could only equate to disaster for the country he'd fought so hard for.

He stood, suddenly eager to be home where he could talk to Bella. There were more ideas brewing in his head, and he knew he could trust his wife to be honest with him. If he was being foolish or impetuous, she would tell him so.

**~0~**

Edward arrived home an hour or so later, having stopped by the florist to pick out a pretty bouquet for Bella. After all, she hadn't technically forgiven him for being rude to their guest and embarrassing her with his territorial nature.

"Alice," he said as he walked in the door, setting the flowers down momentarily on the end table. "There's a letter from Jasper for you."

He watched the way her eyes lit up and she reached eagerly for the correspondence. He quickly pulled it out of her reach. "Should I be reading these letters?" he asked, eyeing her suspiciously.

His little sister glared. "He's written to me, not to you," she said shortly, grabbing the letter from his hand. "For goodness sakes, Edward. He talks of nothing but his son and how much he misses seeing him, that's all. It'd do no good for him to write to you about it. You aren't around Peter to have much to say."

"Oh, that's not true, is it buddy?" he asked, stooping to pull Peter - who had toddled over when he heard his father's name being bandied about - up into his arms. "Oof. See? I know that Peter grows like a weed. I think he will skip directly from three to a great boy of six or seven at this rate."

Peter looked at him, apparently decided he was amusing and giggled. Then he reached for the letter in Alice's hand. When she obligingly gave it to him, he turned it over in his tiny boy hands, looking curious. Jasper had last sent him a relatively large package filled with games and toys for his birthday.

"Nothing for you today, buddy," Edward murmured, bouncing the boy to coax a smile out of him. He swapped Peter into Alice's arms. "Where's Bella?"

"Laying down in your room," his sister answered.

Edward furrowed his eyebrows. "Laying down? At this hour?"

"She's not feeling well. Doctor Gerandy was here earlier, and-"

Edward didn't stay long enough to hear Alice's words. Though he had the urge to treat his wife's every headache or sniffle as a national emergency, Bella took illness in stride. If she had summoned the doctor, there had to be something very, very wrong.

Taking the stairs two at a time, he hurried to their room. He calmed only slightly when he saw her whole. Even from across the room, he could see her breaths were even and not labored.

Quiet as possible, Edward removed his hat, jacket, shoes, and tie. Bella stirred when he climbed into bed with her, and rolled over, snuggling close against him, letting him gather her into his arms.

Her skin, as he kissed her forehead, was clammy and more pale than usual.

"Bella," he murmured, kissing along her hairline. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," she promised. "The sickness has passed for the moment. I'm a little shaky is all."

"Hmm." It sounded like she was trying to convince herself as well as him. Moving his hands to cup her cheeks, he brought her face up so he could look her in the eyes. She certainly seemed very tired but also, there was a touch of inexplicable nervousness reflected in her normally warm, soothing brown. "Are you certain? Bella, if there's something wrong..."

"Nothing is wrong," she said more firmly, shifting closer to him. "I don't feel well. Please, just hold me," she asked quietly.

He tightened his grip around her, hating that she was hurting even in the slightest. "I brought flowers for you, but I seem to have left them downstairs," he murmured, trying to think of something that would make her happy, distract her from whatever small malady had struck her.

"I'm sure they're very pretty."

He raised a hand again, stroking her cheek. "I had planned to surprise you at Christmas, but given my behavior recently, perhaps now is a better time," he mused aloud. "What would you say to taking a trip this summer? I was thinking to Italy or possibly England. We can visit the stage where Shakespeare's plays first saw light. Would that not please you?"

For a second, her eyes lit up, but then she seemed to shrink backward, her expression uncertain. "That would please me quite a bit," she said in a whisper. "But I must decline your generous gift, my husband."

Edward blinked, sure that he had to have heard her wrong. "You don't wish to travel? I thought-"

"I do wish to travel," she interrupted quickly. "I just think that this summer will find me quite unable to go that far from home."

Edward's heart skipped a beat as he tried to wrap his head around what she was trying to say. She was biting her lower lip fiercely, her expression oddly shy and uncertain. "What are you saying?" he asked finally. Though he thought he knew, he didn't dare hope.

"I'm saying... I'm going to have a baby," she said quietly.

At her words, Edward was absolutely powerless to stop the grin that spread, quickly tugging at the sides of his cheeks - a smile larger than his face was capable of holding. "You are certain?" he asked breathlessly, his hands on either side of her face. "This is not another bad bowl of clam chowder?'

Her lips quirked up, clearly happy to see his barely contained joy. "I'm sure. Dr. Gerandy confirmed my suspicions today."

"Your suspicions? How long have you suspected?"

"Just the last week," she assured. "I didn't want to get your hopes up." She raised a hand stroking his cheek. "You're happy?"

"Of course!" Happy was putting it mildly. He was exultant. His elation was such that he was surprised he hadn't rocketed straight to the moon. "Oh, Bella..." he murmured, peppering her face with kisses.

She giggled at his antics, wrapping her arms around his neck as he shifted so he was hovering above her.

Just as quickly as he began, Edward sat up, putting some distance between them. "I'm not... I don't want to hurt you."

"You will not hurt me," she said, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. She reached for him again.

"But last night... I was... we were..." Suddenly his head was filled with a thousand different worries. They'd been less than gentle the night before. He'd taken her on the floor for pity's sake!

"Stop being silly," she demanded, pulling him back down toward her.

He acquiesced but was careful as he lay back down with her, holding her close but not too tight.

Putting a hand on her still flat stomach, he allowed himself to wonder at the miracle beneath his fingers. It was a rite as old as the world, but no less astounding to him because it had been the beginning of every person.

They'd created life together.

"When?" he asked, his throat tight with emotion.

"Mid-summer, the doctor believes."

He smiled again and laughed, joy quickly overtaking his worries. "Mid-summer," he repeated wonderingly. He kissed her again, this kiss slow and serious. "Bella, do you know how much I love you?"

"I know," she said against his lips. "As I love you."

Those minutes they spent in bed together, quietly celebrating their love and the life they'd sparked together, the rest of the worrisome world faded away. For those minutes, life, the universe, and everything was exactly as it was meant to be.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I loved that the lot of you thought she was pregnant last time. Well, she wasn't then. She is now. 3 **

**Thanks to barburella and GinnyW, and to all of you. Your response means the world to me. I'm sorry I haven't been able to stop and reply. **

**MWAH.**


	18. Merry Christmas

**A/N: This chapter is short, but y'all are sweet. And I love you.**

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><p>The lives of babies in the womb and out were uncertain. Parents were often advised not to become too fond of their children until they'd reached a more solid age - perhaps three or four. Being a baby was not a safe task by a long shot.<p>

Bearing a child was about as dangerous if not more so. Abortion was common among all classes, though the lower classes tended to die in their attempts more often than the upper classes. Children were to be celebrated but privately, wiser men frowned watching as many women's bellies swelled year after year. Women died in childbirth often, taking their last babies with them.

These thoughts kept Edward awake at night. He sat on the sofa of his room simply staring, watching the fire cast a low orange glow over his pretty wife.

She'd become so essential to him. He wondered when that had happened. He wondered what he would have become if he hadn't found her. She was wiser than he in many ways. He ran nearly ever big decision he made by her, and she always had an opinion, a side he had not considered.

What would he do without her?

Though he was proud of his growing family - he could not wait to meet his child, the child they had created together - he couldn't deny he was terrified of what he stood to lose. In moments of panic, he bargained with any god who would listen that he would never touch his wife again if it meant she would live.

Suddenly too restless - what could he do but let the pregnancy play out - Edward stood and moved quietly out of the room. The dawn was just breaking outside anyway, and it was Christmas Day. He may as well get up.

Edward was vaguely surprised, as he made his way downstairs, to smell coffee in the air and see low lamplight in the living room. He crept quietly forward, leaning against the wall for a moment as he took in the sight before him.

Emmett had turned his favored armchair to the window, and was sitting with his arm crooked, staring outside. The little cooing noises that filled the air alerted Edward to the fact he had Charlotte tucked into his good arm, and he was talking softly to her.

"See, little lamb? I think the lamplighter's job must be the most lonely one in the city. He begins work when the sun goes down - lighting the lamps on the street. His shift ends as the sun comes up and he douses the flames again," he murmured, looking out to where the lamplighter was indeed snuffing the lights that lined their street out one by one.

For a long minute, Edward watched his brother with his daughter, and his heart felt full to bursting. The fervent joy he felt when he truly thought about becoming a father overwhelmed his fear in those moments. A year from now, Charlotte's cousin - his son or daughter - would be about this size, Edward realized. If the doctor was correct the cousins would come within a month or so of sharing birthdays.

What an incredible thing to think when he could not even feel his baby through Bella's skin yet.

Edward retreated to the kitchen, deep in thought about the responsibility that loomed ahead of him. He poured a cup of coffee before joining his brother in the living room, alerting him to his presence this time.

"Couldn't sleep, Brother?" Edward asked easily, turning the chair opposite Emmett to face the window and settling down.

"Miss Charlotte couldn't sleep. And you know me. I never could sleep on Christmas morning," Emmett chuckled. "I decided to give Celie a break - let the poor woman sleep since we could not." He rocked his daughter, looking down on her fondly.

Edward nodded. "It's as good a gift as any for Celie, I suppose." Celie was Charlotte's nursemaid. She was a young negro woman with no family - the only servant they employed who stayed at the house - sleeping in the nursery with Charlotte and Peter.

"Will you take her?" Emmett asked. "I suppose the coffee is cold by now."

"Lukewarm," Edward allowed, standing and retrieving the baby from his brother's arm.

He settled down again, smiling as Charlotte yawned at him, gurgling happily . She was a very pretty baby, he thought. His heart gave a quiet pang as he studied her features, seeing his father in her golden curls and the shape of her nose.

"You're thinking about Father, aren't you?" Emmett asked as he took his seat again. His normal humor was gone from his voice, and the expression on his face was strangely forlorn. "I miss him," he admitted. "Today of all days, I miss him, but..." His brother paused, his eyes straying to his daughter. "I really wish I could talk to him. A lot."

"I know exactly what you mean," Edward muttered.

They were silent for another few minutes before they were joined by a soft, "Good morning." Turning, they found Alice watching them. She held Peter at her hip. The boy looked teary - one hand wrapped up in the yellow sash his father had given him the day they left Houston, three fingers of the other hand shoved into his mouth.

The siblings readjusted themselves, going to sit together on the couch. Peter tapped himself and pointed to the baby several times until they wedged him between Alice and Edward so he had ready access to Charlotte. Patting the baby seemed to cheer him slightly.

"I miss Papa," Alice said, her voice strained by sadness.

Emmett wrapped his good arm around his little sister, and Edward laid his head on her shoulder. They all sat there for a time - four children missing their fathers on Christmas morning.

**~0~**

Despite their heavy hearts in the pre-dawn hours, Christmas was, as it was meant to be, a joyful time. The family breakfasted together - Emmett and Edward equally amused when Bella had a double serving of eggs.

Once the sun was stronger in the sky, Peter became noticeably restless, straining for the family room where the Christmas tree sat, beset with presents.

The adults enjoyed Peter's joyful squeals as he tore through finely wrapped gifts to get to the prize. By far, he was most spoiled, though Charlotte came a close second. Charlotte was much more interested in the velvety ribbons, enjoying stuffing them in her mouth. Esme commented that the following year, she would be much more interested in her gifts. Edward, his arm wrapped tightly around his wife, shared a private smile with Bella, thinking that it would be their baby giggling amidst the brightly colored wrapping paper then.

The adults' exchange was a little more sedate.

Emmett was supremely satisfied with the fine, aged brandies Edward had gifted him with. He was almost giddy about the fact his new home - which stood to be completed in the coming weeks - had a built in bar area off his study.

Edward had gifted Rosalie and his mother both with a fine set of combs and perfumes he'd had shipped over from the finest shops in London. Esme protested at the lengths he'd gone to, but he'd waved his hand. It had been too many years since he was able to celebrate a proper Christmas with his family.

He watched Alice's eyes light up as she opened a huge box with two brand new dresses in a new style he had - to that point - forbidden her to wear. It showed too much of her shoulders for his liking, but she gave a cry like she was sixteen again, hugging him fiercely, so he thought it was an allowable concession.

Bella's gift was simplest - at a glance, anyway - but her face lit up when she unwrapped it. "Oh, Edward! Jacob spoke about this book just last week at the ball," she exclaimed. Her obvious delight kept the grimace at the mention of the other man's name off his face.

"What is it?" Esme asked, curious.

"Alice's Adventures in Wonderland," Bella said excitedly. "The book came out last month. "It's said to be just fabulous."

"You didn't tell me you'd hired someone to write your biography, Alice," Emmett teased, and Alice snickered.

Edward beamed, happy at Bella's obvious happiness. She kissed his cheek - though he had no doubt she would have thanked him much more emphatically if they weren't in polite company. "This is perfect. Thank you." She grinned at him. "Here I was afraid you were going to be extravagant."

He chuckled. "Well, of course I'm going to be extravagant," he admonished.

Cocking her head, Bella looked at him with a perplexed expression.

"Open the book," he prompted.

As she obeyed, a folded up paper fell out of it. She frowned, picking it up and smoothing it out. Her eyes went wide as she realized what it was. "Edward," she gasped. "This is-"

"Don't say it's too much," he warned. "It's only a very small addition - hardly anything at all."

Leaning over, Esme held her hand out. "May I see that, dear?" When Bella handed the blueprints over, she smiled. "Oh, this is lovely. It's a new addition to the sitting room - a little nook with a window seat and new book shelves," she explained to the others.

"Yes, and you may fill those shelves with as many books as you can buy," Edward declared primly. "Starting with that one."

Bella's eyes shone, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him in earnest despite their audience. "You're too good to me," she whispered in his ear.

He shook his head, holding her tightly, splaying one hand over her stomach. "You've given me everything. This is only the least I could give you."

**~0~**

As afternoon began to bleed into evening, Edward wandered into the living room, finding Peter curled up in the chair Emmett had left by the window. It was the fourth time that day the toddler had wandered alone into the living room, staring out the window. The little boy looked somewhat forlorn as he scratched a few random lines on the chalkboard he held on his lap - part of a gift from Edward of things he would need to begin his schooling.

"Hey, buddy," Edward greeted softly. Peter stared up at him, biting his lip. "How are you doing?"

Peter shrugged his shoulders, going back to staring out the window. Edward noticed he still had his father's sash wound around his entire arm.

Carefully, Edward picked the boy up - chalk, chalkboard and all - sitting down and settling him on his lap. He cuddled the boy since he seemed to need it. "You miss your Papa, don't you?" He'd wondered if the little boy realized he was missing a gift from his father when he opened presents. It wasn't like Jasper not to send something, but Edward thought his gift might be as of yet undelivered.

Of course, Peter said nothing, but he did let the chalkboard drop as he turned to bury his face in Edward's shirt. Edward caught the thing before it fell to the ground. He propped his feet up on the windowsill, unwinding a piece of chalk from Peter's hand.

They sat for a time together. Edward drew funny things with the chalk, making up stories about bunnies and bears for the child's amusement. Eventually, seeming cheered, Peter took the board back, trying his own hand. He would scrawl some childish chicken-scratch on the board, looking up to Edward for approval and a new story whenever he was done.

In between, Edward would lapse into silence, his thoughts meandering. He thought about his newest investment: a fledgling little newspaper, and the tenement building that would break ground in the Spring. He thought about his brother's new home. He thought of how his life had changed several times this year alone and wondered what the new year would bring.

His thoughts continuously circled back to one fact: he would be a father in the coming year. And again, he wondered how he could hope to be half as good as his own father had been.

He stared out the window sightlessly. This winter had been relatively mild. Snow was drifting down now, peppering the lawn with random bits of white. It wasn't the kind of snow that one could have any fun in. It was his intention to take Peter out sledding at the first good snowfall.

In Christmases past, he remembered the front yard being blanketed with snow. His mind conjured up the image of one Christmas when Alice had been a toddler, for she stayed in Esme's arms on the porch as Carlisle played with his boys and their new sled. He remembered Carlisle showing him how to roll a snowball to start a snowman, and remembered the snowball fight that ensued when Emmett got bored of stacking snowballs and began throwing them.

Edward was startled out of his memories when the child on his lap gave a cry. Before Edward could figure what was happening, Peter began to wiggle, desperate to be out of his arms. "Peter, what-"

But he was interrupted by a sound he'd never heard before - the high pitched voice of a little boy. "Papa!" Peter cried, pushing at Edward's chest, trying to find leverage to escape his hold.

For a long moment, Edward only stared dumbly.

Of course, when they first arrived, Esme had insisted that Peter be taken to the best doctors to see about his missing voice. There was nothing to be said. As Edward already knew, there was nothing wrong with the boy's throat or vocal chords. Bella had already told him he spoke some words before his mother was murdered before his eyes but hadn't spoken at all since then. He would find his words with time, or he wouldn't. Edward was long used to the boy's silence; Peter communicated just fine.

So at first, Edward couldn't comprehend what was happening.

"Papa, Papa, Papa!" Peter insisted, grunting as he struggled to free himself.

Still in a state of shock, Edward released him. Instantly, Peter wiggled to the floor and darted in the direction of the front door.

That was when Edward finally stared back outside to the front walk. There was a figure there he hadn't noticed, and it took him a moment to recognize who was standing just inside the gate, looking up at the house with uncertainty.

Even with his heavy winter coat, Edward could see he was thinner. It had been less than six months since he'd last seen his old friend, but that time had changed him, aged him. "Jasper," he muttered in shock.

He stood quickly, going into the entry hall where Peter was standing on his tiptoes, trying to get the door to work with his uncoordinated, over-excited hands. By that time, his continued exclamations and cries of, "Papa! Papa! I'm coming, Papa!" had drawn the rest of the family. They all stared at him with wide eyes.

The minute that Edward reached down, opening the door, Peter was off like a shot. For once, none of the adults warned him about not going into the bitter cold without his jacket or shoes on. They didn't warn him to be careful lest he slip on the path. And though he was as clumsy as any three year old, Peter didn't falter as he ran.

The man at the end of the walkway dropped the two bags he'd been holding and sprinted up the walk, meeting the toddler partway. He dropped to his knees just as Peter launched himself into the air. Jasper caught him easily, and for a long moment they only held each other tightly.

Edward only tore his eyes away from the beautiful sight when he felt a tug on his arm. Bella was there, tears streaming down her cheeks, handing him his coat and Peter's. Stooping quickly to kiss her cheek, he murmured a thanks, slipping into the coat as he stepped outside.

Peter was sobbing, his little shoulders shaking as he cried, clinging to his father's neck. He cried out in protest when Jasper tried to hold him at arm's length.

"Shh, shh," Edward was close enough to hear Jasper murmur now. "It's okay, baby boy. I'm here. I'm here now." He raised a shaking hand to the boy's cheek, just staring at him for a long moment. When Peter shivered in the bitter cold, his teeth chattering, Jasper quickly opened the front of his jacket, pulling the little boy tight against his body before he wrapped it around him again.

It seemed to Edward that the blond man was close to tears, but when Peter began to babble again, he couldn't hold them back. "Papa, I love you. I love you, Papa," Peter said between gasping sobs.

"You're talking? I..." He shook his head, holding his boy close, shaking off his glove so he could run his fingers through Peter's hair. "I love you, too." He sat back, heedless of the fact the snow must have been soaking into his pants. He drew his legs up close, holding and rocking his boy.

It was many long minutes before Jasper looked up at all. His eyes darted, first up at Edward and then to the porch where the rest of the family must have gathered by then. He took a deep, steadying breath, rising with Peter still held tight in his arms.

For a few heartbeats, the two men regarded each other. Edward could see indecision and what looked suspiciously like shame dart across Jasper's features.

Edward smiled tightly, stepping forward to drape Peter's jacket over his shoulders. To Jasper he simply said, "Welcome to my home. Come inside. There's still some Christmas dinner left. "

Jasper smiled uncertainly, burying his head against Peter's hair. He took a deep breath and nodded. "Thank you," he said simply. He frowned, looking over his shoulder at his abandoned bags.

"I'll get them," Edward said quickly, realizing Jasper didn't want to let Peter go yet. "Go inside."

Jasper's smile was a little more genuine then. "Thank you," he said again, his voice shaking with emotion. He kissed the side of Peter's cheek and turned toward the house.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thanks so much to jfka06, barburella, and GinnyW. MWAH.**

**Sooooo. Jasper's back in the picture. Whatever will happen now?**


	19. A Little Bit of Business

**A/N: I am sorry for the delay. Real life has me running around like a chicken with my head cut off. I'm gonna try to update this again before I leave on my cruise on Friday.**

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><p>The only one of them who had ever heard Peter speak was Bella. Back then - before his mother's violent death - he'd only spoken a few simple words.<p>

What a vast difference.

When Edward got back inside with Jasper's two small bags, Peter was chattering away in complete sentences, apparently introducing everyone.

"An' this is Awis. She's my fwiend."

"Ma'am," Jasper greeted softly, taking her hand in his free one.

Alice's eyes were shining. "You kept your boy waiting a long time," she chided lightly.

His lips tugged up at the corners. "My apologies, ma'am," he said, kissing the side of Peter's hair lightly.

Peter continued on. He certainly had everyone's attention. They were all watching him like he was the most fascinating thing they'd ever seen.

"An' this is Shaw-lot," Peter said in whisper-voice, craning down until Jasper reluctantly set him on the floor so he could peer into the bassinet. Edward pressed his hand to his mouth, trying not to laugh at how absolutely reverent the little boy's voice was. "She is a pwetty baby."

The little boy scarcely wandered more than a few feet from his father for the rest of the evening. He only went as far as it took to retrieve a few of the gifts he'd gotten for Christmas. Concerned that Jasper had no Christmas presents, he wrapped a top Emmett had given him ages ago - he forever brought it to one of them to help him set it spinning - in the sash Jasper had entrusted to him. He thrust the 'package' at Jasper, his eyes wide and searching for approval. Edward thought he saw the blond man's eyes were shining, and respectfully turned his gaze elsewhere.

By the time Esme and Alice coaxed Jasper to the kitchen to enjoy what was left of Christmas dinner, Peter was fighting sleep. He clung to Jasper's neck, his head on his shoulder, making his father eat one handed. Jasper didn't seem to mind.

Finally, Bella led Jasper upstairs to the childrens' nursery where he tried to tuck the little boy into bed. Instantly, Peter became tearful. "Papa, is this a dweam?" he asked fretfully.

"No, my sweet boy. I'm really here," he said gently, stroking the boy's hair away from his face. He glanced at Edward and Emmett, his eyes full of questions. "I'll be here when you wake up, I believe."

Edward was slightly taken aback, hearing the ring of uncertainty in his old friend's voice. He nodded his head, silently assuring him that he had a place to stay.

"Pwomise?"

"I promise."

With the inherent trust of a child, Peter seemed completely at ease. He fell asleep promptly. Jasper gave a small sigh, stroking the boy's cheek once more before he stood, turning back to the others in the room.

"I'm sure you'd like something to drink," Edward said, interrupting the silence that fell. "Come. Let's go back down to the sitting room."

When they were all gathered and everyone who wanted one had a full glass, Jasper finally began to tell his story.

"I apologize for arriving unannounced," he said quietly. "Things happened right quickly, and if I'd had time to think, well, I might have talked myself out of coming at all," he admitted.

"I'm sure y'all know I've been struggling for some time." He stared out sightlessly, breathing deep. "And I think I've known for a while the struggle was all for naught.

"Jasper..." Bella began, but he shook his head.

"No. It is what it is, and that's just fine." He took another deep breath. "Honestly, I was lucky. An old friend of my father's offered to take what property I had left - I sold so much of it off - off my hands for a right nice price, truth be told."

"What do you intend to do?" Edward asked.

Jasper took a long drink of his whiskey, closing his eyes as he, doubtlessly, felt the burn down his throat. He attempted a semblance of a smile. "That's a very good question," he murmured. "I don't mean to impose on your kindness, but if you might offer up a room for just a few days - just long enough for me to find an apartment of my own, and I'll have myself and my boy out of your hair shortly."

"There's no rush!" Alice exclaimed.

"Alice!" Esme admonished, but Edward just smirked. He'd seen Alice practically bouncing out of her skin, wanting to contribute to the conversation.

"Well, Peter is doing well here," Alice continued, unabashed. "He's just about to start tutoring, and-"

"Alice," Edward interrupted gently. He turned to Jasper. "My home is open to you and Peter as long as you need or want, of course."

Jasper frowned. "I think I'm taking enough advantage as it is, showing up unannounced."

"Either way, our house should be ready to live in in the next few days," Emmett said easily. "I think it's best if you come with us." His tone was innocent but hinted that he was not to be argued with.

Watching the way Jasper's head snapped toward Emmett... away from his sister, Edward couldn't help but agree with his brother's assessment.

**~0~**

The last week of December flowed into the first weeks of the new year. As Edward expected he would, over Alice's protests, Jasper moved out of Emmett's house and into a small apartment at the heart of town. It wasn't the best neighborhood, but it wasn't the worst, and it was near the factory where Jasper found a meager job.

Because he didn't want to take Peter away from the loving family he'd been adopted into, and because there was no one to watch the boy during the day, Jasper relented to Alice's request. Whenever Jasper was at work, Peter was at the Cullen home.

Of course, that meant Jasper was a frequent guest.

It did Edward's often overtaxed heart a lot of good to count Jasper a friend again. Time had finally healed whatever wound had made him so bitterly angry in Houston. Perhaps it was that Peter had been so well taken care of. Perhaps it was that, left alone back home, he'd found some semblance of peace about what he'd lost.

Edward hardly remembered what it was like to have peers. Yes, he had his brother and his wife, but it was nice to have a friend. It was nice to realize they were not so unchanged from the boys they'd been that they could not pass many an hour without tiring of each other's company.

Of course, the return of his friend was not without its complications.

Alice never bothered to hide how much she too enjoyed the pleasure of Jasper's company. At first, Edward thought Jasper was being politely solicitous, indulging his sister's near constant chatter. Then the familiarity of their discourse struck him as strange. He began to wonder if he should have insisted on reading the letters they'd exchanged some months before.

Winter was beginning to give way to Spring. Edward looked up from his desk, staring out the window to where Jasper, Alice, Peter, and Esme sat on the lawn, enjoying the first vestiges of warmer weather.

He sighed lightly, watching Alice's face light up at something Jasper said.

"Mope, mope, mope," a teasing, lilting voice said from the doorway. Smiling, Edward turned to find his wife approaching with a tall glass of lemonade. "What are you brooding about?"

Edward smirked. "There's a list," he said dryly, "but it doesn't matter so much when you're here."

He lifted a hand, beckoning her toward him, and wrapped his arm around her waist when she came. Laying his head against her side, he spread his hand over her stomach, his grin broadening when he felt the hard swell beneath her layers of clothing. "How is our Hortense today?"

Bella grimaced, and Edward struggled not to laugh. Their argument over names had bordered on the ridiculous for some time now. He chose names that he knew she wouldn't like just to see the crinkle of skin between her eyebrows.

"Hortense," she pronounced the name with some disgust, "wonders what you will call her if she turns out to be a he."

"Fletcher, obviously," he said seriously.

Bella rolled her eyes.

"Or Agnes. Agnes works for a boy or a girl."

She groaned, a hand over her eyes. "I suppose I'll just have to hope you are far away when my time comes, and I'll name the baby myself."

Edward's features tightened. Automatically, he tightened his hold on her.

That was one of his nightmares - that he would, for some reason, not be able to get to her when the time came.

He had no idea what he thought he would do - he knew he wouldn't be allowed in the birthing room to begin with - but the idea of being away from her when their child was being born...

"Edward?" Bella's voice was soft, her hand gentle on his cheek. "Where did you go?"

With some effort, he lifted his eyes and smiled at her. "I'm sorry, my love. It's been a trying morning." His eyes flicked outside the window again.

"Why don't you come outside and enjoy the sunshine?" She tilted her head, smirking at him knowingly. "It'd be easier to keep an eye on Jasper and your sister outside."

Edward chuckled. She knew him so well. "That might be true, but it's not just my sister I'm worried about."

Bella looked at him, concerned, and Edward sighed. Readjusting his grip on her, he shuffled some of the paperwork on his desk, proffering her a letter. "The property I purchased a while back?"

"The one on which you were going to build a low rent tenement building," she filled in, nodding.

"Exactly." He grimaced. "Well, it seems there was a push from local interests," he said, his voice irritated. "By that, I mean that James Hunter figured my intentions and took steps to ensure I couldn't build. He's had the matter wrapped up in the local channels for months, and now the final verdict."

"They've rezoned the land," she murmured, reading.

He nodded.

"Build a park on the land and donate it to the city," she said after a moment. "It will serve the neighborhood, and it won't hurt to show off your generosity publicly."

Edward tapped his lips, pondering this before he grinned broadly. "You're very clever. Your husband is a very lucky man."

"My husband is very clever on his own," she returned, kissing his forehead.

"Perhaps," he allowed, looking back at his paperwork. "But he may be considering something foolhardy."

"Oh?"

"Mmm," he hummed. "I believe myself to be a generous man, and I believe what I'm doing is for the betterment of our city - our country. The issue is, Hunter also publicly appears very generous... and he's made his aspirations abundantly clear."

"We've discussed this, Edward. If you don't wish to see him take a role in government, you may do well to give people another option," she reminded gently.

"That is the most direct option," he agreed. "But as we discussed, you would be as miserable as a politician's wife as I would be as a politician. And besides, you know there's something to be said about backing. Hunter has it, where as most of the right people think me a child."

"Then what are you thinking of, my clever husband?"

He was silent for another moment, putting together this thoughts. "Two birds with one stone," he said finally. "It has bothered me for some time that the little newspaper I bought chooses to run such stories that don't cause much of a fuss. Alistair and I have already had many an argument over it already," he said tightly, recalling his numerous discussions with the newspaper's manager.

"So, tomorrow, I plan to go directly to the Editor-in-Chief. I think it's high time the paper explored the benefits of investigative reporting," he said slowly. "Beginning with looking into what the local elections will look like." He paused, watching as her eyes grew wide with realization. "People deserve to know who they may or may not be electing, after all."

"And if something untoward is discovered about James..."

"So much the better," Edward finished.

"It's a good plan," Bella said quietly. "But what if there's nothing to be found?"

"Well, I've considered that," Edward said slowly. "Unfortunately, not everything... unpleasant in life can be simply gotten rid of. If there are no skeletons in Hunter's closet, then so be it." He breathed in and out deeply, trying to reconcile the idea.

James Hunter with any level of power just didn't sit well with him. Hunter was far from the first politically minded person Edward knew whom he didn't approve of, but he simply felt more dangerous than anyone else.

"Bewa?"

Edward and Bella both looked up. It seemed that some time during their discussion, Peter had relocated. He toddled up, lifting his arms to Bella. Rather than let his pregnant wife carry more than one baby at a time, Edward pulled the boy onto his lap instead.

"What is it, Peter? Weren't you downstairs with your Papa?" he asked.

"Yes. But I wanna cookie," he said, looking up pleadingly.

"Peter, it's almost dinner time, and you've had two cookies today," Bella said, crossing her arms over her chest as she looked down at the boy. "If you keep eating all those cookies, you're going to be a big, round, roly-poly."

The little boy screwed up his nose. "Did you eat too many cookies?" he asked innocently, eyeing her rounding belly.

Edward put a hand to his mouth to smother his laughter as Bella's eyes went comically wide.

"Gracious," she muttered, ruffling his hair. "You weren't so sassy when you didn't talk."

She took a few steps backward, settling on the window seat. She held her arms out, and Peter hopped down off Edward's lap, clambering up onto the window seat beside her.

"See this?" she asked gently, tickling his stomach. Peter giggled. "Your belly is very soft, right?"

"Yes," he agreed.

Taking his little hand, she placed it against her belly. "Is that soft?"

"Not like me," he said wonderingly.

"No. I'm going to have a baby," she explained softly. "That's why my belly's getting bigger. Not because of cookies," she said with a laugh.

Edward watched them, thinking about how very unique Bella was. While babies were celebrated, it was thought impolite to mention or acknowledge pregnancy. Esme, if she were witnessing this exchange, would have been aghast at the idea her daughter-in-law was talking so frankly with a child about pregnancy, let alone letting him feel her belly.

Bella tried to be good, but many things didn't sit well with her. She made a sour face when she had to send one of the servants out on an errand she would have normally attended to. It had taken some nagging from Esme before Bella would concede being seen out and about now that her condition was obvious would have been thought scandalous. Wealthier woman often spent their entire pregnancies cooped up in their homes.

Then again, wealthy women often stayed confined to their beds because, as he'd so frequently observed, the life of babes in the womb was uncertain.

Shaking that thought away as he usually did, Edward stood. "Come along," he said to Peter and Bella. "Lets get this young man back to his papa before he's missed."

"Is okay," Peter said dismissively. "Papa is playing wit' Awis."

Edward arched an eyebrow. "Oh, really?" His cheek twitched. "Then we should go join them. Games are always better when shared with friends."

As they walked downstairs, Edward lowered his voice. "How long would you say before I have to really be worried about them?"

Bella laughed, sliding her hand into his and squeezing. "If it were up to Alice, you'd have perhaps enough time to walk outside before she would ask your permission. Jasper... he isn't there yet."

"Well," Edward muttered under his breath as they stepped outside. Jasper, who had been grinning at whatever Alice was saying, studiously looked away when he noticed Edward's arrival. "If it's all the same to anyone else, I'm fine with him taking his time getting wherever it is they're going."

**~0~**

Emmett's laugh was loud and hearty as he looked over the paperwork Edward had handed him. "You think you're very clever, don't you?"

Edward's answering smile was sardonic. "Bella likes to tell me I am, though perhaps she thinks it's her wifely duty to soothe my ego."

"Ha!" Emmett shook his head. "Your wife never fails to tell you when you're being an idiot. That's what I like about her."

"Well, she thinks this is a good idea. What do you think?"

"It's almost obvious when you think about it," Emmett said more seriously. "Hunter might stir up trouble with his connections if you simply bought another parcel of land, but what can he do if you buy a pre-existing building?"

"Right," Edward agreed. "It may even prove more inexpensive to refurbish a building rather than building a new one. Then Hunter can hang his talk of how the angels are weeping over what I intend to do to our fair city."

Emmett nodded. "It's a good idea, my brother."

Edward tilted his head as a tight look came over his elder brother's face. "Speak your mind," he prompted.

"It's nothing really," Emmett said slowly. "It's just odd how many times Hunter comes up in conversation with you. I'm glad you found a way to fulfil your plans, but I wonder if your fervor is more because you truly want to do these good works or because the man got under your skin." He shrugged. "Not that it matters. It's simply that if you're going to start a feud-"

"Not a feud," Edward interrupted. He tapped his chin, assessing his motivation. "Some time ago, when I first purchased the store, he came by to try to talk some sense into me," he began.

He recounted the story of James's visit and his unveiled threat.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Emmett asked hotly. "If he's threatening our family-"

"It's an empty threat, Emmett," Edward pointed out. "What can he do to our family? He cannot ruin us financially, nor drive us out of business. He's proved he can be an annoyance."

"Yes." Emmett agreed. "I can see why he gets under your skin." He nodded and then grinned. "Seems like the least we can do is get under his."

"And do some good in our community," Edward reminded, trying to taper his smile.

"Ah, yes. Well, that's just a bonus."

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><p><strong>AN: Thank you to Barburella and jfka06 for handholding and beta. Thanks to all of you for still being around.**

**We are coming up quickly on an end to our tale. I feel like I should forewarn. Perhaps 2-3 chaps, me thinks.**


	20. Not Without Consequence

**A/N: Hello, my lovelies! Thank you for being so patient.**

**Note: Placage is a system of common law marriage (essentially) where wealthy white men were placed with quardroon mistresses. These women and the children born of the union were provided for a legal family would be, though the women were not the men's legal wives. If that makes sense.**

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><p>Edward woke out of a sound sleep when Bella made a disgruntled sound, throwing her side of the bed's blankets on top of him. He watched her with sleepy eyes. The candle by her side of the bed was lit, so she must have just come from one of many trips she took each night to relieve her bladder. Even in the low candlelight, he could see her face was flushed.<p>

As the temperature rose and her belly grew, Bella was more and more uncomfortable.

He shifted, sitting up in bed, and she looked over. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"Are you sure you don't have a fever?" he asked worriedly, cupping his hand against her hot cheek.

She smiled at him patiently. "No fever. The night is warm, and your son insists on making matters worse."

"Hmmm," Edward hummed. Taking her hands, he helped her to sit upright and began pulling her nightgown over her head.

"Edward," she protested when she figured out what he was doing.

"Hush, love," he said gently. "I'm trying to cool you down. No more."

She sighed, letting him slip the gown off. "I am surprised you want to touch me at all," she said moodily. "I am so big..."

Edward shook his head as he crossed to the wash basin, dipping a clean cloth in water before he returned to her side. He sat on the edge of the bed, beginning to run the cool cloth across her forehead and cheeks. "Are you mad?" he asked without malice. "Do you have any idea what it's taken for me not to touch you these last weeks?"

In the low light, he could see her confusion. "I thought you found me grotesque."

He laughed, incredulous. "Bella. No. Never." Again he stood, this time pouring a bit of water into the cup by the nightstand before he returned to her. Wetting the towel again, he continued to cool her neck, her shoulders. "You are lovelier now more than ever."

"You are trying to make me feel better," she accused, but there was a smile to her voice.

Leaning forward to tease her lips with his own, he brought the cool towel over her breast, purposefully brushing her nipple. She sucked in a breath. "I thought it more polite not to bother you," he murmured as he painted her skin with light kisses down her neck. "You are always beautiful to me."

She leaned in, kissing him with intent. Pleasantly surprised, Edward kissed her back. He hadn't been lying. Not touching her had been its own form of torture.

He pulled back slightly when she began to tug at his night shirt. "Bella... is this... are you..."

Her expression was uncertain. "If you don't want-"

He laughed. "I do want. I want very much." He stroked her full belly lovingly. "I just don't want to hurt you or the baby, or make you uncomfortable."

She tilted her head at him curiously. "I'm ungainly but not fragile." Her expression turned shy. "Perhaps if we... um..." She shifted, getting on her knees and turning away from him. She looked back over her shoulder, and he didn't think her flushed face had anything to do with the heat at that point. "Like this?"

Edward stifled a groan, allured at the prospect she presented. He'd never been given an option before. He swallowed hard. "Are you positive?"

"If you want me," she said softly.

He ran his hand along the line of her side, his eyes taking in her body. He'd thought he had a complete list of his wife's most enticing attributes. He had seriously neglected noticing how very shapely her backside was.

Brushing her hair off one shoulder, he kissed her there. "I always want you," he said against her ear, reaching around her to cup her breasts. "No one but you." He kissed her neck. "But I thought you were too hot."

She reached one hand back, threading her fingers through his hair. "Then you will have to distract me," she said breathlessly.

He growled against the spot where her neck met her shoulders. "That I can do, my beautiful girl."

_**~0~**_

Edward sat at his desk, humming as he looked over the estimates for renovating the old apartment building he'd purchased.

"Pardon, sir," Seth said as he came to the door.

"Ah, Seth. What can I do for you?" Edward asked amiably. He was in a very good mood.

"There's an errand boy at the door for you, sir. He says he needs to speak with you about the newspaper."

"You may as well ready a horse and buggy for me, Seth. I've a feeling I'm going to be making a trip downtown shortly."

_**~0~**_

Edwards suspicions were confirmed, and he found himself at the newspaper office just half an hour after a newsboy had been sent to summon him. He walked into a full-on fight in the manager's office.

Alistair Franklin was glaring across his desk at the editor-in-chief, Randall Daley, and one of the reporters, Liam Gallagher.

"What's going on?" he asked, stepping into the room.

The men rose, making slight, polite bows at him.

"Mr. Cullen. Please tell me what Mr. Daley claims isn't true."

"You'll have to be more specific, sir," Edward said calmly as he hung his hat and cloak.

"He's referring to the fact you suggested my boys find out what they could about our aspiring politicians," Randall inserted mildly.

"Ah." Edward nodded. "And there is some problem?"

Liam stood then and proffered Edward his notebook. A name caught his eye almost instantly.

James Hunter.

Reading on, Edward's eyebrows shot up.

He had suspected a thorough investigation into James's affairs would not come up empty handed, but he had not suspected this. It appeared Victoria was not James's only wife, though she was, perhaps, the only one who could legitimately claim that title.

James had a placage wife in New Orleans from before the war, a union which had borne him three illegitimate children. And in a quiet corner of Delaware was an Irish woman who thought she was his only wife. That union had produced two further children.

Edward swallowed hard, feeling the contents of his stomach roil sickeningly.

"Don't you see, Mr. Cullen? It's madness to consider printing this information."

"Madness?" Edward raised his eyes to look on Alistair calmly.

"It's uncivilized to air the dirty laundry of our gentry." Alistair looked decidedly uncomfortable. "A man has his needs, after all. Are we to punish one of our decorated soldiers for indulging?"

"Indulging?" Randall scoffed. "Sir, I'm not sure how you can excuse this kind of behavior. It's one thing for a man to have a mistress, quite another for him to have not one but three wives."

"Perhaps it is in poor taste-"

"Poor taste?" Edward interrupted. "Mr. Franklin, this is not only in poor taste, it goes against the law of the country as well as the law of God Himself."

Alistair grimaced.

It wasn't as though Edward didn't understand the elder man's discomfort. They were a society who preached piety and yet turned a blind eye to the hypocrisy happening right under their noses. Edward knew that, as a man who was faithful to his wife, he was in the minority, and there was a reason why the streets were teeming with bastard children. They had to belong to someone.

The tendency, especially amongst the upper class, was to ignore such indiscretions so long as they were not committed in plain sight. But irrefutable evidence such as Liam had gathered - and the lad had been quite thorough - could not be swept under the carpet.

The article would destroy James's reputation, irrevocably crippling his ability to go into politics. Wives would direct their husbands that he was unwelcome in their homes for dinner, leaving him unable to socialize with the right people.

"Gentlemen, please. I implore you to see reason," Alistair tried. "These are very uncertain times. A scandal amongst our governing bodies is the last thing we need."

"Perhaps, but Mr. Hunter is not a member of our governing body just yet, and therein lies the difference." Edward tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Let us all be plain - I'm well aware that if we go looking for shadows, there are plenty to be found, even amongst our dearest friends and neighbors.

"That being said, we are also in a time of rebuilding. We have a chance to be a stronger city and, in turn, a stronger nation." He spread his hands, as if imploring understanding. "In this time, don't you think it is our responsibility to see that men of pristine character are elected into office?"

"Haven't I told you for years, Alistair? A newsman's job is not to report what is comfortable but what is truth," Randall added. "We are not priests sworn to keep sins in the darkness of our confessionals."

"No, but nor do we have to drag those sins from the confessional and splash them about in bold typeface." Alistair wrung his hands. "It is uncouth, and I will not be party to it." He turned to Edward. "Mr. Cullen, really. Is this what you wish your business to accomplish? To drag a soldier not unlike yourself through the mud?"

"Under the circumstances, I don't take kindly to being compared to James Hunter in any light," Edward said somewhat hotly. He breathed in through his nose. "I'm sorry, Mr. Franklin, but I am behind Mr. Daley. I will leave the reports of pretty, easy things to the Ladies Home Journal."

Alistair hung his head, his hands flexing into fists on the desktop. "You are a very young man, Mr. Cullen," he began when he lifted his head again. "And young men are prone to vehemently championing righteous causes without considering the ramifications of their actions. Have you considered, sir, what will happen to goodly Mrs. Hunter and the children?"

Edward felt as though he'd been struck. His cheek twitched as he considered the scenario he'd been ignoring.

Were he to let this story come to light, Victoria, Riley, and Bree would be ostracized right along with their husband and father. Victoria would lose all her lady friends. The children would not be invited to parties and would be shunned.

As a soldier, collateral damage wasn't an idea he was unused to, but that didn't make the reality easy to bear.

Swallowing hard past the lump in his throat, Edward's tone had lost quite a bit of fervor when he spoke again. "It is unfortunate that Mr. Hunter made the choices he did, choosing a path that could ultimately shame his family. I understand that running this story is not without consequence, and that will be a burden on my shoulders. But I shall have to stick to my original decision. What will befall Mrs. Hunter and their children is regrettable, but then, it would be more regrettable to have a man of Mr. Hunter's character in charge of the laws that govern us all."

He held Alistair's gaze without wavering for several long, heavy moments.

The elder man sighed and nodded. He stood. "Very well." He glanced at the other two men, nodding at them in turn. "Mr. Daley, Mr. Gallagher, despite our differences, it has been my pleasure to work with you both." He turned to Edward, holding his head high. "Mr. Cullen, I will see to it that you find my letter of resignation in your possession promptly."

"Mr. Franklin-" Edward began to protest, but the man held his hand out, stopping his words.

"Sir, a gentleman knows when he's outstayed his welcome," Alistair said bluntly. "Your father was a good man, and I was privileged to know him and in turn to work, however briefly, with you. But I feel that this world is changing perhaps too quickly than I can keep up with and what good I can do has been done. Please believe that I say with the utmost sincerity, good luck to you, sir, and may your quest for the right prove worthwhile."

With that, the distinguished gentleman bowed and strode from the room, leaving the other three gaping after him.

Edward breathed in deep, not speaking until he was sure his voice would be steady. "Mr. Gallagher, how soon until you can have an article ready?"

"Tonight, if I push through the day, sir," Liam answered.

"There is no hurry. I want you to be thorough." He turned to look at both men to assure himself he was being taken seriously. He was. "Mr. Daley, after you have proofed Mr. Gallagher's article, I would appreciate if you get me a copy straight away. Is that possible?"

"Of course, sir," Randall said, nodding.

"Good. Then I expect this story to print no longer than two days hence."

_**~0~**_

Edward knew well enough the dangers of drinking on an empty stomach. Despite that he knew he would only suffer for it later, he'd refused the cook's offer of lunch. He wasn't even remotely hungry, but the burn of whiskey on his tongue and down his throat was much more welcome. was was the blur of his unforgiving thoughts.

When his mother frowned at him, Edward retreated to his study. There, his dark mood only deepened, as he heard the voice of his father from so many years before.

_He was eight or nine - still a boy, but capable of deeper thought than he had been at five. Boys his age were always eager to be grown, and Edward was no exception._

_He sat at the desk as his tutor had directed, doing his figures under his father's watchful eye. Edward was good at math, but it took his tutor or his father standing over him to get through his work, tiresome as it was._

_Bored, he chanced a glance up, watching Carlisle page through a medical journal. Even at nine, he felt as though adulthood were rapidly approaching. At least, he wished it would get there sooner. He thought it was high time he chose a profession._

_"Father?"_

_"Son," Carlisle returned, looking up attentively. _

_"Why did you want to be a doctor?"_

_Carlisle put his book down, his expression thoughtful. "Many reasons. It gives me happiness to be able to help people. The mindset suits me, I suppose. On a sick bed, all are equal. It matters not if my patient is a beloved friend or the most vile criminal, my oath is to heal, and harm none."_

As the memory faded away, Edward hunkered down in his father's chair, a great shame weighing heavily on his shoulders, making his heart ache so bad, no amount of alcohol could dull the pain.

Gnashing his teeth, he took another long drink, trying anyway. He laid his head on the desk, his mood dour.

A quiet sigh drew him out of his misery. Edward did not look up, knowing he couldn't bear the sight of Bella's irritation or disappointment. He was drunk, and he knew it. If he thought he could speak without growling, he would have told her to leave him be. She didn't need to deal with him today.

But the sound of her skirts brushing along the floor told him she was coming in anyway. He felt her presence beside him and, a moment later, her hand in his hair.

"Will you tell me what's wrong?" she asked quietly, her tone not irritated but tender.

He shook his head.

Again, she sighed.

With soft but firm fingers, she pried the decanter of whiskey from his hands and set it to the side, out of his reach. "Stand up, Edward," she directed, her tone still gentle but something told him it would be unwise to argue.

Obedient, Edward stood and instantly stumbled forward, out of balance. He caught himself on the edge of the desk.

Bella said nothing but slipped her arm around his waist.

"You should not be supporting me," he grumbled, trying to keep his weight off her.

"Oh, somehow I shall survive," she said lightly, drawing him forward.

They didn't speak again until she'd gotten him to their room. There, she sat him down on the couch and sat beside him, taking his hands. "You're hurting, and I don't know why," she said simply. "Please let me help you."

Edward closed his eyes tightly and slumped. He laid his head against her shoulder, breathing her in. Her scent, her presence, always soothed him, and he did feel slightly better when she wrapped her arm around him. "My father would be ashamed of me," he admitted against her skin.

"Tell me," she implored, stroking his hair.

So Edward told her what he'd done and what Liam Gallagher had found.

"This is wrong," he rumbled, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "My father never would have let this happen. He would have protected Mrs. Hunter and the children at all costs."

"And what of the other women involved and those children?" Bella asked, her fingers warm on his neck. "Who would speak for them?"

Edward was silent.

"It is a sad thing, what will happen to Victoria and the children," she continued. "I know you feel responsible, but you are not. James made those choices." She paused a moment, her hand finding his cheek. "And I know something of being a wife whose husband is talked about behind closed doors. It is survivable."

Edward raised his head. Taking her hands, he brought her knuckles to his lips, lingering there a moment. "You really have no idea how strong you are, do you?" he said wryly. "And I asked your permission - do you remember? I asked you before I embarked on this... whatever it is I'm doing."

"And it's not the same at all. You would never do to me what he's done to her," she agreed.

"No. No I would not. Not ever."

For seconds, they were both silent before Bella spoke again. "It's not an easy decision, husband mine. I think you are very brave."

"Ruining lives is not a brave thing."

"Is it not? You fought a war that tore apart so many lives, your own included. I'm sure the men who began these wars didn't want to hurt women and children, but they did." She sighed. "Right and wrong in this world of ours, it's not so easy to determine. And yes, sometimes the right decision will hurt the wrong people."

"My father-" he began, but she cut him off.

"You make your father out to be a saint, but I assure you, he was not. Not even the goodly Carlisle Cullen could find a solution to this particular problem, I'd wager. At least not one that hurt no one but James himself."

Edward scoffed. "My father would find a solution that didn't even hurt James," he mumbled, perhaps a little petulantly.

"Your father would be proud of you." She cupped his face, tilting his head toward her so he could see her eyes. "I'm proud of you, and I'm proud to be your wife."

Straightening, he kissed her softly, letting her caresses sooth him further. "I'm trying to be a good man," he whispered near her ear.

"You are a good man." She guided his hand to her belly, pressing his palm so he could feel their baby move. At that, he smiled. "Our son? He'll look on you exactly how you looked on your father. You will be his hero."

Edward sat up straighter, kissing the edge of her jaw, her cheek, her hairline. He was feeling tired, the alcohol and the calm she'd brought him urging him toward sleep. He kept his hands against her belly for long moments, letting himself imagine the picture she painted.

"Do you think he's a Carlisle?" Bella asked, taking the opportunity to change the subject as she put her hands over his.

"Hmmm," Edward hummed, considering that.

She was always so considerate of how much he missed his father, but she had lost her father as well..

"No," he decided. "A Charles, I think. Charles Carlisle, perhaps?"

Her grin was wide and, he thought her eyes might have been a little teary. "That would please me."

He smiled, feeling better that he'd made her happy. He could still do that, at least.

When he tried to kiss her again, he missed.

Bella laughed and pushed herself to her feet, leaning heavily on the arm of the sofa. "Come, Edward. How about a nap?"

"You just woke from a nap, didn't you?" he mumbled, trying to remember.

"You're always bothering me to lay down."

"You should. You make my back ache just to look at you," he insisted. She was such a small woman, and the burden she carried very large in comparison.

"Well, I shall then."

"Good. Yes. Lay down."

Patiently, she laid down, tugging on his hands until he remembered he was supposed to be laying down with her.

"I do love you, Bella," he whispered as he was drifting off.

"I know. I love you, too."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thanks to Shug for beta work. Thanks to barburella for ... being barburella. And thanks to all of you for making this worthwhile!**


	21. Intentions

**A/N: Hello my dear ones. I know short chapter is short, but that usually means next chapter will be long. Mwah. Thank you all.**

* * *

><p>The new nook Edward had built for Bella was proving to be his favorite addition to the house yet.<p>

He sat on the window seat, his wife between his spread legs, rubbing her back as he looked out over his lawn and to the street beyond that. Situated as the little nook was, he could see everything but not be seen from the street.

Which, he suspected, was why Jasper was still out there, pacing the sidewalk.

"What will you tell him?" Bella asked, her voice unassuming though he knew she had opinions.

But then, Bella always had opinions.

"It depends on the question." Edward tried to keep his voice neutral, but he could hear the edge.

Bella glanced over her shoulder, a frown to her face, and Edward sighed. "You know Jasper is my friend."

"And a good man. He makes your sister happy."

Edward grumbled lightly, slipping his arms around her, his hands cupping their son. "There is more to it than that. You know it."

"Is there?" Despite the tension he could feel in her posture, she leaned back against his chest. "Our marriage was not so simple."

"No. And Jasper would have prevented our marriage if he could. Surely you remember." He ran a hand through his hair, bristling a little. "It is not the same. Not nearly. I had the means to take care of you."

"Do you think that's why I married you? For all this?" She gestured around her. She shifted in his arms to look him in the eye. "I would have said yes to you that day in the forest before the war, no matter if you were a pauper or a prince." With a small sigh, she reached back, stroking his cheek. "You may do well to honor Alice's choice. It is her happiness on the line, not yours."

Edward's frown deepened, and he ducked his head, hiding his face in her hair.

Hadn't he said much the same thing to Jasper once? _She has made her choice, and you will honor it. _

Again he sighed, kissing the side of her head. "You will be such a good mother. Have I told you this?"

Her posture relaxed again and she leaned back against him, cuddling close. "You have told me. I hope you're right."

He knew she worried, having never had a mother. "I am right," he assured, traipsing his fingers over the hardness at her middle. "A good mother is always honest. If we have a daughter, I expect I will be much more ridiculous than I am about Alice. Much, much more."

She held her hands over his, pressing them firm where their baby moved within her. "That I can promise you, husband mine. When it come to our child's happiness, I will always speak up."

"Good." His head on her shoulder, he saw as Jasper took a deep breath, put on his hat, and marched purposefully toward the house. "Well, wish me luck, my dear. It's time to find out if I am a good brother."

They stood, and she kissed his cheek. "I trust you to make the right choice."

Edward nodded before he ascended the stairs, heading for his study. There, he sat, drumming his fingers on his desk, waiting.

Sure enough, just a few minutes later, Seth appeared. "Mr. Cullen? Mr. Whitlock is here to see you."

"Direct him here, Seth," Edward said lightly.

He rearranged the paperwork on his desk, making himself appear busy. Jasper's steps were slow and measured as he came down the hallway, halting just outside the door. "Edward?"

"Ah, Jasper. Come in." He gestured to the seat in front of him. "Sit down. Might I offer you some brandy?"

"No. Thank you."

"Well. I believe Peter is at the market with my mother and Alice, but I'm sure they'll be home shortly."

Jasper removed his hat, nervously worrying it between his hands. "I thought we might have a word, Edward."

"As many as you'd like."

The blond man smirked. "Right," he said wryly. He cleared his throat. "I'll be plain with you. I... I've taken a shine to your sister, to Alice. Quite a shine."

And there it was.

Edward put down his paperwork, looking up at his friend steadily. "I see. And what are your intentions?"

Jasper laughed nervously. "My intentions? Look, you and I both know I have nothing to offer. I wouldn't be here except Alice doesn't have a mind to wait. She made that quite clear."

"Did she?" Edward arched an eyebrow. "When were you alone with my sister?" He was fairly certain his mother or Emmett would have told him about that conversation had it happened in their earshot.

"Ah, hell," Jasper muttered, his cheeks flushed. "Nothing untoward happened, Edward. You know I would never..." He swallowed hard. "She came to the factory. I'd have stopped her if I'd known she was going to do it."

"How did that gossip not reach my ears?" Edward mused out loud.

"She was discreet. I don't think anyone saw her. She asked another worker to come get me. I think she paid him handsomely."

Jasper had apparently figured that honesty was the best policy.

Edward had to laugh. "Relax, Jasper. I believe you. When Alice wants something, there is not much to be done to dissuade her."

The other man's answering smile was gentle, adoring. "I'm discovering that."

"So your intentions?" Edward prompted. "I wasn't under the impression you were in any position to take on a wife."

"I'm not," Jasper admitted. "I... can I be plain with you?"

Edward swept his hand wide.

"I... I never expected I could feel like this. God help me, it's different even than it was with Maria." He looked down, his eyebrows knitted. "She makes me feel alive again. She makes me feel like tomorrow is worth it."

Edward said nothing. He understood how love could reshape a life that had once been dull and lifeless.

"As I said, I have nothing much to offer. But everything I have, everything I am, is hers." There was nothing but the deepest sincerity in his eyes. In an age when such fanciful confessions were considered too foolishly sentimental to be shared with another man, he was showing Edward a piece of his soul - the only thing he had to give. "She would never want for love."

Edward drummed his fingers on the desktop again, thinking. "Love will not support her."

"No," Jasper agreed. "Until I can get my feet under me, I'm only asking for permission to court her."

Sitting back, Edward steepled his fingers under his chin. "I have conditions."

Jasper let out his breath a great rush of air. He swallowed hard. "Such as?"

"I believe what you're saying, Jasper. You would love, honor, and cherish my sister with your last breath, but love is not enough to provide what she needs - what she deserves."

"You have a solution?"

"Perhaps." Edward looked at his friend evenly. "You need the means to provide for Alice and Peter. Forgive me, but I believe if left to your own devices, you may not be able to give Alice the home she deserves for too many years. That simply will not do. I won't have her becoming an old maid, waiting for you.

"So here is my proposal. I don't know how much you pay attention to the gossip, but you might know, I am in need of a newspaper manager."

Jasper blinked, looking entirely confused. "I don't follow."

"I mean to hire you," Edward said plainly.

His friend laughed. "Edward, I don't know a lick about running a newspaper."

"I'm well aware of that. Neither do I." Edward stood, going to stare out the window, clasping his hands behind his back. "What I'm proposing is not an easy solution by a long shot. As you said, you have no experience. In addition, the men you manage will not have any respect for you because they will, correctly, assume you got the job because of your connections to my family. You shall have to earn their respect."

He turned around. "In a year, if you have not run my newspaper into the ground, I shall give my consent for you to marry my sister. What say you, sir?"

Jasper turned his hat over and over in his hand, his face a mask of consternation. Edward knew well enough that it was a great blow to Jasper's pride to offer him a job like this, a job he hadn't earned.

After a moment, he stood and offered his hand. Edward took it. They shook.

Edward smiled. "Welcome to the family, my friend, my brother."

_**~0~**_

"Didn't you tell me he punched you when he found out about you and Bella?"

Edward glanced at his elder brother with a bemused expression. They were sitting side by side on the porch, watching Alice and Jasper walk the gardens hand in hand. "He did, but what does that matter?"

"You might have at least returned the favor," Emmett grumbled.

"Yes, well," Edward chuckled. "It would have upset Bella."

"Then you should have called for me and let me do it."

"How do you propose that?" Edward snorted. "Trust me, he throws a hell of a punch. I'd have had to hold him down for you, and that puts me back at the same concern: not upsetting my very pregnant wife."

Emmett didn't respond for a long minute, then he huffed. "A Southerner. A Confederate," he muttered. "Well, it's true what they say. A Cullen never does love reasonably."

"I suppose not."

"And you made him manager of the paper? You're a glutton for punishment, especially when Hunter is doing his level best to make life... interesting."

Edward turned, hearing the note in his brother's voice. "Something else?"

Emmett rolled his eyes. "It seems Mr. Hunter took it upon himself to inform the partners at my firm about my extracurricular activities."

"You mean your giving legal counsel to the impoverished?" Edward asked, sitting up straighter. "Emmett, I'm sorry."

His brother waved his hand. "Surprisingly enough, they took it well. They said they hadn't any control over what a man talked about outside the office."

Edward breathed a little easier. "Thank God," he muttered. "Hunter is stubborn. It's been some weeks and he's still barking like a rabid dog, trying to sink his teeth into something."

"It's a fool thing. He may yet be able to have a life, give his wife and children some peace, back in Richmond." Emmett shook his head. "He can only hope to destroy himself - and them - further by insisting on staying around here."

"But he has no leg to stand on," Edward continued, thinking aloud. "And he no longer has the power to sway opinion."

The brothers were silent, considering.

"You'll have to tell Jasper to expect some trouble, I think. Or at least some noise from Hunter," Emmett said thoughtfully.

"Oh, look at that," Edward said suddenly, forgetting all about James Hunter.

Emmett looked and frowned. "Oh for the love of God," he muttered.

Across the lawn, Peter, who had been playing in the grass with Charlotte, had pulled the barely one year old girl to her feet. He walked patiently, holding her hand tight so she wouldn't fall. Doubtlessly imitating what he'd seen his father do earlier, he picked a large white flower from the bushes. Charlotte offered him a huge grin, taking the flower and promptly stuffing it in her mouth.

Standing quickly, Edward picked the girl up and Emmett got the flower out of her mouth.

Peter looked up at them with wide eyes. "I sorry," he said quickly. "Papa says Miss Awice is his sweethawt. I wan' Shaw-lot to be my sweetheart."

Jasper chuckled nervously, catching this last bit as he and Alice came up to them. "Give it a few more years before you start talking about sweethearts, Peter," he admonished gently. He picked the boy up, adjusting him on one hip before he looked at the brothers and Alice. "The hour grows late anyhow. I should take my leave."

Edward nodded, trying not to laugh at the way Emmett glared at Jasper.

The blond man sighed. Turning to Alice, he smiled, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips. "Good evening." To Edward and Emmett he nodded. "Gentlemen."

Emmett let out a long breath before he turned to Charlotte in Edward's arms. He wagged a finger in her face. "He may well be your cousin some day, little one."

The baby grinned at him winningly and Emmett's stern expression gentled.

"Cullens never do love sensibly," Edward reminded him.

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><p><strong>AN: Thanks so much to Twitina for pinch beta. Thanks to Barburella for being her!**

**Next chap should be... interesting. It should also be the last full chap. I think. Maybe.**


	22. To Tomorrow

As a man who had not earned his position, not many of the editors and reporters Jasper managed would respect him merely by his title. As an ex Confederate soldier with an obvious Southern drawl, that lack of respect turned into something bordering on contempt. A great many of the reporters and editors had served on the side of the Union during the war. A great many of them hadn't returned.

Edward would not have blamed the man if he quit on the first day.

"You seem like such an even tempered man, Mr. Cullen," Randall observed, his tone lacking any kind of inflection.

Edward laughed. "I have my moments of temper."

"Yes. I'm wondering just what grievous injury a man caused you to make you throw him to the wolves in this fashion."

Despite himself, Edward smirked. "He intends to marry my sister."

Randall's eyebrows shot skyward. "Ah. That'll about do it," he agreed. "Well done you. It's much more subtle than I could come up with. I knocked my sister's first suitor to the ground with a well placed fist."

"And bloody the carpet?" Edward asked, pretending to be aghast. "I may be the head of my household, but my mother would have my hide." He chuckled. "As it happens, all the respectable candidates didn't want the manager position. You declined my offer, if you'll recall."

"I've no head for business," Randall repeated. "My work is down with the presses, leading my own army."

"As it pleases you, sir." Edward tipped his hat. "But that left me with a problem. Though they may not always agree with me, the men who run my businesses are men I trust."

"I see," Randall said quietly. "You do trust him then."

"I do at that."

The two men were silent for a moment before Edward turned to the editor-in-chief. "Do you still have whiskey hidden in your drawer, Mr. Daley?"

"Always, sir."

"Might I convince you to part with it?" he asked, proffering a bill that would more than cover the cost of a full bottle, and Randall's bottle was not likely to be full.

"Keep your money," Randall said, waving a hand as he walked to his desk. He dug the mostly full bottle out of his drawer and handed it over. "If you're heading to Mr. Whitlock's office, he needs it more than I do anyway."

"I'd expect."

"Oh, Mr. Cullen?"

Edward turned back, raising an eyebrow.

"How does your wife? She must be near to her time."

Trust a newsman to be impolite enough to ask, but Edward did appreciate the candor. "The doctor says any day now, but he has been saying that for going on half a month."

"Ah, yes. Mrs. Daley was much the same way with our first, poor thing. She expected she would be carrying till the end of time. But the lad came when he was good and ready." Randall nodded. "Just the same, they say a spoonful of Castor oil does the trick."

"Forgive me, but if I had just a coin for every remedy I've heard these last weeks..." He clucked his tongue.

"You could put an end to the city's hunger problem?" Randall chuckled. "Well, best of luck to you and your lovely wife."

Edward nodded his thanks before continuing on to Jasper's office.

There, he knocked on the door, standing close enough that the frustrated sigh of the long antagonized man could be heard clearly.

"Enter," Jasper finally called.

The blond man looked wary until he saw who it was. He straightened up in his chair. "Ah. Edward," he said, standing. "Please have a seat."

Edward sat and set the whiskey bottle on the crowded desk in front of them. Jasper looked up, arching an eyebrow.

"Pour," he directed with a wave of his hand.

"What's the occasion?" Jasper asked as he poured.

"Survival of the fittest. You've made it through the week without killing or being killed." He raised his glass. "You may yet be able to handle the toughest challenge of all."

"What's that?" Jasper asked, looking a little pale.

"My sister." He leaned forward. "Don't let her petite form fool you, sir. She's a little hellion."

Jasper's answering grin was soft, genuine. "She'll keep me on my toes, I expect." He looked up, his expression knowing. "More or less than Bella?"

Edward snorted. "Before or after pregnancy?"

"I wasn't there when Maria was pregnant with Peter," Jasper said quietly, his voice wistful.

His admission had a sobering effect. "I'm lucky, I know. I will be there when my son or daughter is ushered into this world." He raised his glass again. "To lasting peace, so that we might never be away from those we love again."

"I'll drink to that," Jasper agreed, taking a long drink.

He looked down at his near empty glass, studying the amber liquid intently for a long moment. "Edward, I want to thank you," he said softly.

"For?"

Jasper scoffed. "Everything. You've treated me like a brother, better than. You took care of my little boy when I couldn't." His shoulders sagged slightly. "And all after I was so needlessly rude to you."

"You-"

"No, you don't have to excuse my actions," Jasper interrupted, not unkindly. "I know well enough I was an ass." He moved the glass back and forth between his hands.

"It was a long time that I didn't know how to be anything but angry. I gave my all. Blood, sweat, tears." He touched the pad of a single finger to the scar on his face, drawing down it. "My pretty face."

Edward couldn't help his chuckle, as Jasper had obviously meant that lightheartedly.

"And for what?" Jasper asked with a sigh. "My mother and wife murdered, my boy left motherless, and my family made poor?" He was silent a moment. "It was more than I could bear, I think.

"Then one day my neighbor came around and offered to buy my property. I was as ticked off as a bull that'd just been castrated." He shook his head. "I was out working the field when I realized I didn't know what I was doing still fighting, still being so angry. I was all alone and struggling, letting another man raise my boy."

"Living in the past when you had a tomorrow to look forward to?" Edward guessed, understanding.

Jasper looked up, his smile sad but true. "Exactly." He poured them both another bit from the bottle of whiskey and raised his glass. "To tomorrow."

"Tomorrow is another day," Edward agreed, clicking their glasses together.

_**~0~**_

James Hunter continued to be an annoying fly that buzzed around Edward's head.

Or perhaps a mosquito whose bite was ultimately ineffective for anything else but an irritating itch that begged to be scratched.

Walking home one evening, Edward was caught slightly off guard by a heavy body slamming into his on the sidewalk. He looked up to find James glaring at him, swaying as he stood, obviously drunk.

Very drunk.

The drunken man took a swing at Edward's head which he dodged easily. The forward momentum sent James tumbling to the ground.

He snarled, the sound not unlike an angry dog, as he rolled onto his back, propping himself up on his elbows. "I will destroy you, Edward Cullen. I swear to God, I will see you brought low."

"Silence, drunkard."

Edward looked up as another man, Mr. Banner - James's one time benefactor - came to tower over the fallen man. His hands were fists at his side. "You've no one to blame but yourself for your sorry condition. If you've any pride as a man, you'll get off this street and quit making such an embarrassment of yourself."

James's scowl seemed to deepen, but he didn't speak again.

Banner kicked at James's boot. "Up. Up and get out of here. You are not fit to be in polite company, cad."

By then, a few more men had gathered, standing with their hands in fists at their side. James looked around at them, his mouth pressed into a firm line, and hauled himself to his feet. Before he stumbled off, he pointed at Edward. "This is not over, snake."

Edward took a deep breath when the man was out of sight. "Thank you for your assistance, sir," he murmured politely to Mr. Banner.

Banner looked uncomfortable, but nodded shortly. Adjusting his hat, he walked away without speaking a word to Edward.

Of course, it was no less than Edward expected. While they could not condone James's actions and ostracized him, Edward was not exempt from their ire. More than one person had remarked behind his back that they found his nosiness unappealing to the nature of a gentleman.

Adjusting his own hat, Edward reminded himself he didn't care about their opinions. He had what friends he needed. He had his family.

He continued his walk toward home with his head held high.

**~0~**

"Damn it all to hell!"

Edward froze, a little too shocked at Bella's outburst to move right away.

She reached out, leaning hard against the wall of their bedroom, biting her lip as though she were trying very hard not to cry. Normally, dropping the two books she'd been carrying would not be cause for a day of mourning, but Bella had been very emotional the last two days or so.

"Here, Ma'am, I'll-"

"No! Leave it!" Bella demanded, all but shrieking at the poor girl. "Just leave it! I'll get it myself!"

That snapped Edward out of his stupor. "It's alright, Mary," he assured as he stepped quickly to Bella's side, picking up the books and slipping his arm around her shoulders. "Why don't you go see if my mother needs any help today."

"Yes, sir," the pale girl said, nodding and vanishing quickly.

Frustrated, Bella let out a long, slow breath, wiping at her eyes. "I am sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me."

Edward rubbed her back with one hand, splaying his hand over her very swollen stomach with the other. "I think we may have discovered the reason. Be easy on yourself, sweetheart. He is near as big as you are."

She just sighed, leaning against him for a moment.

He clucked his tongue, cupping her face in his hands. "Oh, my poor girl. Look at you. It's so miserably hot." He pursed his lips. "Here's what I will do. I'll send the servants home for the weekend. It will be just Mother, Alice, and I. Then we may all rest comfortably without so many layers on. Would that please you, love?"

For a moment, it looked as though she was going to snap at him. Then she sagged and closed her eyes, breathing deep. "But your mother-"

"Mother and Alice will survive without the servants for a day. It's fine."

She twisted her lips, but nodded gratefully. "Will you have Leah make a pitcher of lemonade? With ice?" she asked in a small voice. "She makes it just perfectly. Not too much sugar nor too much sour."

"Of course." He kissed the top of her head. "Come. Let's go downstairs and get you situated out back on the porch. Then I'll send everyone away."

Relatively few minutes later, Edward and Bella sat on the porch outside, enjoying the day.

Well, Edward was enjoying the day a sight more than Bella was. She kept shifting, unable to get comfortable.

"Leave her be," Esme whispered near when Bella had snapped at him for what had to be the fifth time. "There's not a thing in the world you can say that will be right, at the moment. You'll survive being out of your wife's favor. I promise."

Edward frowned. He didn't enjoy the helplessness he felt. There had to be something he could do to make things easier on her.

"There's nothing," Esme assured him again when he ducked in house to fetch her a book she wanted. "I could barely stand to look at your father in the days leading up to your and your siblings births. With you and Alice, I cursed my own stupidity. How could I have let him touch me again when I knew what was in store?"

"Mother!" Edward flushed to hear his mother talk so plainly.

Esme pursed her lips, looking abashed and amused. "My son, I know you don't believe anymore that I found you in a cabbage patch."

Sheepish, Edward rubbed the back of his neck. With a sigh, he stepped forward, wrapping his arms around his mother's slight form and laying his head on her shoulder. "I am worried for her," he admitted in a soft voice, speaking his long held fears aloud for the first time. "I keep thinking I would feel better if Father were here. He would know what to do if... if..."

"Shh, dear boy." His mother scratched her fingers through his hair like she had when he was a child and woke from a nightmare, weeping and afraid. "If your father were here, you would still be afraid. As good a doctor as he was, he was always afraid for me. He didn't say it, but I saw it in his eyes."

She kissed his forehead tenderly and cupped his cheeks, bringing his face up to look at her. "It will be fine. Bella is a very strong woman and the baby takes after her." She grinned. "At least, that's what I take from his powerful kicks."

Edward closed his eyes tight, breathing in deep. He felt better when he exhaled. "Thank you, Mother," he murmured, kissing her cheek.

_**~0~**_

It was some hours later, toward the late afternoon, when the crash of glass shattering on wooden floorboards woke Edward from a sound sleep.

He stood quickly, his heart racing as he reached for a gun that wasn't there. It took him a moment to orient himself in time.

Home. He was at home on his porch, having fallen asleep with the warmth of the sun on his face.

A stifled cry focused his attention, and he finally saw Bella. She was hunched over as much as her belly allowed, one hand curled around her belly, the other gripping the arm of the chair so hard her knuckles were white with tension.

"Bella?" he asked hoarsely, becoming more alarmed by the second.

Good God. Her coloring was a sickly shade of white that was nearly gray. Her face was covered in a sheen of sweat and pinched as in acute pain.

"Mother!" he cried, going to Bella and putting his hand on her shoulder. "Mother! Come quickly! Alice!"

His mother appeared first, took one look at Bella, and immediately sunk to her knees. "The pains are on you, dear?"

Bella's features became slightly more relaxed, but not by much. She just nodded, still beyond speech.

"Just now?" Esme asked.

Bella looked up and it seemed to Edward she looked slightly guilty. Slowly, she shook her head no. "All day," she managed to whisper between clenched teeth.

"All day?" Edward cried. "Why didn't you-"

Esme's glare silenced him.

She turned back to Bella, patting her hand soothingly. "These are different than the contractions you've had the last few days?" Esme confirmed.

Edward squeezed Bella's shoulders. She'd been having sporadic contractions for a few days now, which the doctor had repeatedly explained could not be considered true labor and were perfectly normal.

"They are much, _much _stronger."

"Much more frequent? And how much time between each pain?"

Bella panted with effort. "They are frequent, but the time and the pain... it all varies. It gets worse, it gets better..." she sucked in a breath. "It gets much, much worse."

Edward saw the way his mother's eyes went wide with worry before she tempered her reaction. It felt as though his heart plummeted to the bottom of his boots. His throat went dry and tight with apprehension.

Esme took a calming breath. "Alice," she began slowly, looking to her daughter who had appeared at the back door. "You must run and fetch Dr. Gerandy. Tell him to hurry."

Wide eyed, Alice nodded and turned quickly to do as her mother bade her.

"Edward, bring her upstairs to your room."

Edward didn't have to be told twice. Carefully but as swiftly as possible, he hooked his arm under Bella's knees, lifting her up. She wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her head against his chest as he carried her up the stairs.

"I'm sorry," she murmured breathlessly as he set her down in the center of the bed. "I'm so sorry. I should have said something, but I... The doctor has been here every day this week, and I hate him. By God, I swear if he touches me again..."

"Hush, sweetheart." Edward brushed his fingers over her wet cheeks, wiping away the tears that had spilled over. "That doesn't matter now. Everything will be fine, I promise. Rest a moment, and I will see what Mother needs, all right?"

She nodded, laying back on the pillow looking piqued and tired already.

Though it physically pained him to leave her side, when he got out the door, he sprinted to find his mother. She was in the kitchen, gathering clean towels and what else might be needed for the birth.

"Something is wrong," he accused, his voice frantic now that he was out of Bella's sight. "Tell me."

Esme spared him a look. "Calm down, Edward. It won't help her if you panic." She took a deep breath, steadying herself. "She is still carrying the baby high," she said quietly.

"What does that mean?"

"I am no doctor. I'm no midwife."

"Mother," Edward begged with a groan. "Please."

His mother paused in her work. "The baby might not be turned correctly." She looked at him sternly, holding his gaze.

"What does that mean for her? For them?"

"Asking me a thousand questions will do you no good," she said firmly. "The doctor will be here shortly, and he'll know what to do to turn the baby. It will be fine. What you need to do now is take a deep breath, because that poor child is likely scared out of her mind and upstairs all alone."

That had a sobering effect. Edward snapped his mouth shut.

Her expression gentled. "Now if you are ready to be calm and strong, go sit with your wife. The doctor will not allow such impropriety when he arrives, so take advantage of it now. It's likely we have quite a long night ahead."

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><p><strong>AN: Weeee! Here goes. So... I'm thinking I can wrap it up in one chapter and an epilogue. We'll see. TYSM! To dizzygrl28, jfka06, and barburella!**

**Three things**

**1) I am participating in a pledge-a-thon. For $5 you can receive a private outtake from me. I'll also be doing a live chat/interview on June 30. It's for a great cause and I'm quite proud to be a part of it. Find out more here: ****bit . ly/ptblkris**

**Note, I don't know what I'm doing the outtake for yet so if you have an idea, let me know. For any of my fics.**

**2) I am also participating in Smut University as a Professor. If you're interested in that read more here: projectteambeta smut-university/**

**3) If you're a fan of historical fics, A Promise Kept by Cullen312 is quite well written. I should warn you that it takes place on the Titanic and I didn't read the original o/s it came from so I have no idea if our wonderful couple survives. I'm biting my fingers at the prospect.**


	23. Surprise

**A/N: Hi, everyone! Mwah!**

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><p>Edward's petite little wife had a fantastically strong grip, as he was coming to find out. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from flinching, and stroked her clammy cheek gently.<p>

Bella released the breath she'd been holding and fell back against the pillows again, panting.

"It's been too long since Alice has gone," Esme murmured from the other side of the bed.

She was right. Edward had thought his sister gone too long many eons ago, but his mother had calmed him, reminding him that Dr. Gerandy had other duties and more to care for than Bella. It could be Alice was waiting while he set a bone or stitched a wound. Or perhaps he'd had to go out far and Alice had to go after him.

But it had been hours, and she still wasn't returned.

"Too hell with the doctor," Bella grumbled. "It's hot. It's too hot."

"Bella-" Edward began but stopped when she turned to him with a livid glare.

"You!" she cried pointing a finger at him. "I don't even want to hear your voice right now!"

Edward pressed his lips together. If he wasn't scared half out of his wits, if she didn't look so entirely pale and exhausted - drenched with sweat from the unforgiving heat and hours of effort - her little outburst might have been funny. But Edward knew his wife well. She wasn't angry. She was in too much pain, and he could see the utter terror in her eyes. Her anger was a cover. She was trying not to scream, trying not to whimper.

"Don't worry, love," he said as soothingly as possible. "The doctor will be here soon, and he is sure to throw me out of the room, far away from you."

Her eyes went wide, making her look almost childlike. "You can't leave me," she said in a small voice. "Please don't leave me. Don't."

"I-I... I won't. I promise. The doctor can be scandalized, but I'd like to see him try and make me leave your side."

Esme chuckled lightly. "Carlisle said much the same thing to Dr. Gerandy when Alice was born," she said quietly.

"And?" Edward prompted, needing the distraction.

"Dr. Gerandy wouldn't stand for it. He threatened to leave. Carlisle pointed out that he himself was a doctor. Dr. Gerandy said, 'Not today. Today you are a father, and you're in the way.'"

Bella groaned and sighed. "I knew I hated him."

Only some minutes later there was a commotion downstairs. Edward was never so glad to hear his sister's voice calling his name.

He squeezed Bella's hand and pressed a long, firm kiss to her forehead. "The doctor will be able to help you. He'll give you something for the pain, I promise," he said fervently. He kissed her forehead again. "I love you so much, Bella."

"Bring me the doctor, and I will think about whether or not I love you," she said, irritable again.

"Quick now," Esme said gently, but there was a tightness about her eyes.

She'd been trying to keep it from both of them, but he had the horrible feeling his mother believed the baby was distressed. What had she said? The baby wasn't turned correctly? Edward had no earthly idea what that meant, but if his mother was worried, it couldn't be good.

He darted from the room at full speed.

"Dr. Gerandy! Alice, I-"

He skittered to a halt at the top of the stairs, his mind not quite quick enough to grasp the scene before him.

Alice stood at the bottom of the stairs. Her face was bloodied, her clothing and hair bedraggled, and she swayed as if she was only barely conscious.

Behind her stood not the doctor, but James Hunter.

**~0~**

For most soldiers during the war, killing was a duty they performed because they had no other choice. This was what it meant to fight for their country, their way of life. They followed their orders. They killed so they would not be killed.

Occasionally, there would be a soldier who thought war gave them rights to be uncivilized, like the man who had raped and murdered Jasper's wife, and the man who'd killed Edward's father. Men like that existed when given the opportunity.

Edward strongly suspected that James had been one of those men. His sense of entitlement had overwritten kindness and propriety with his own wife; Edward had no doubt he'd likely raped and robbed his way through every Southern town he visited.

But now, James was more dangerous than even that.

Edward recognized the glint of madness, the edge of mania amidst the malevolence of James's unwavering, unforgiving glare.

Worse, weeks of constant rejection by his peers, the same who had sung his praises not so long before, had worked him into a frenzy. The anger of a man whose life had been completely destroyed was a dangerous thing. Most others would have retreated back to Virginia with their tails between their legs to lick their wounds and rebuild their lives. James was stubbornly holding on to the life he wanted, the life that he could no longer have.

He was a man with nothing left to lose.

And only Edward to blame.

So far, though, James's aim seemed to be off. He'd found Alice before Alice found the doctor. He'd dragged her off and beaten her. If Edward was reading between the lines correctly, James had been near enough to taking Alice's virtue before she finally blurted out why she'd been out and about without an escort, switching the madman's target from his sister to his wife.

It seemed James had figured out that the best way to hurt Edward was to go straight for his family.

His own voice came back to haunt him, recalling the words he'd spoken to his brother months ago. _It's an empty threat, Emmett. What can he do to our family?_

What indeed.

Edward swallowed hard, trying to contain the fury that had his body on edge, tensed and coiled, waiting for the chance to strike. His muscles ached from being held so tightly in the same position. James had him sitting on his hands while his wife labored upstairs with only his mother to attend her. It had been an hour, but it felt, to Edward, closer to a lifetime.

Again, Edward impotently wished his father was alive.

"I am begging you," he said lowly, looking up at James in a distinctively submissive fashion. "Your quarrel is with me. My wife, my child, needn't suffer in my stead. Let me get the doctor, and you can do what you will with me."

James scoffed, the pistol ever steady in his hand. "What a hypocrite you are. Did you think of my wife, my children, before you smeared our family's name with your pathetic lies."

Edward bristled, biting back the insult that rose to his tongue. He wanted to ask James if he'd thought of his own family, wanted to call him out as a liar, but it would do no good. "I did think of your family," he said honestly. "I've told you, I'm sorry for letting the article run. I should have had the facts verified more carefully, but you must admit, this is not the same situation! This is not an eye for an eye. My wife is struggling with this birth, and I fear for her life, my unborn son's life, if a doctor does not accompany her!"

At that, James's answering smile was maddeningly satisfying. Edward had never struggled so hard to keep calm.

In his head, he imagined ripping James to pieces with his bare hands.

Edward had killed many men, but he'd never wanted to murder someone before.

"Oh, I think this is an eye for an eye, Cullen," James said, his voice eerily smooth and steady. "See, I suppose I'm just not as clever as you are. I can't cook up some scheme that makes you look worse than you make yourself look." He scoffed. "Housing for the filth that bring our proud city down. Putting that Southern hillbilly in charge of good, Northern men.

"And yet, you have people calling my morals, my actions into judgement?" He shook his head, raising his pistol level with Edward's chest. "You are an abomination. If your child dies, it would only be God ridding the Earth of the Cullens, one member at a time."

Edward's fingers dug into the sofa cushion, and he breathed hard, reminding himself over and over that getting himself shot would leave no one to defend the women in the house. Right then, James knew the most pain he could inflict on Edward was making him sit helpless while Bella suffered upstairs. If Edward was dead, he sincerely doubted James's anger would be sated.

"Then let me go to her at least," he pleaded. "Let me comfort her or help my mother. My mother is not so young that she should be going up and down the stairs for fresh water."

James's lip curled in disgust. "Only you would think it acceptable for a man to be in the birthing room."

"Then let me help them."

James's head turned to the entryway where Alice now stood, leaning heavily against the wall. Her eyes were more focused, though she looked disheveled. She'd been laying down in the sitting room - where the windows were faced as such she could not be seen from the street.

"My mother is an old woman who has not approved of either of my brothers' behavior," she lied smoothly. "Let me at least fetch things for her. I won't be much help, having birthed no children of my own, but I can save my mother the aches and pains at least."

Taking advantage of the distraction Alice provided, Edward prepared to spring, his eyes on James's now more relaxed pistol hand. No sooner did he brace himself than James stood, pointing the pistol instead at Alice. Edward froze, and the blond man turned to him and smirked before he walked toward Alice slowly.

Edward could see Alice was shaking, though she was trying not to show her terror. She stood her ground as James approached though she did push herself as flat against the wall as she could possibly get. Edward's heart sped painfully and his stomach lurched. Fury and fear made a lump in his throat that was impossible to swallow around. "You stay away from her!" he snarled, jumping to his feet.

Quickly, James put the barrel of the pistol to Alice's throat. She whimpered but didn't move or cry out. "Take a step forward, Cullen, and you'll be responsible for your pretty little sister's death." As he spoke, he didn't take his eyes off Alice. His voice was so light and easy they could have been discussing the weather.

Edward froze, his chest heaving with barely contained rage. His eyes must have been murderous.

"Now listen close, puss," he said to Alice, stroking her bruised cheek gently with the back of his hand. It was a lover's caress, and Alice's expression, the way she turned her head to the side, indicated she was repulsed. "You may go up and attend your sister, but you step even a toe out of line..." He pressed himself against her then, and Alice did cry out, but he only put his lips near her ear, whispering something that made her shake.

"Get your hands off her, you snake!" Edward demanded, his feet planted firmly in place.

In response, James moved his hand to Alice's neck and squeezed. Alice's gasp turned into a strangled wheeze. "Keep talking, Cullen," he said calmly, still not looking at him.

Edward held his hands out. His eyes, wide and struck, went to his sister's.

_I'm sorry_, he thought. _I'm so, so sorry._

His hand still clenched around her neck, James yanked Alice away from the wall, throwing her down in the direction of the stairs. She coughed and sputtered, her hand to her throat, and James leveled the pistol at Edward again, still grinning down with malevolent glee.

When Alice's eyes met his, Edward quickly curled his hand, making his fingers into a gun. He 'shot' once so she would understand and pointed upstairs.

There was a pistol in his room. Bella knew where it was. If Alice could get it to him...

"Go," James said to Alice. "But remember what I said."

Alice glared but stumbled to her feet, scampering up the stairs as fast as her battered body could get her.

James chuffed. "If you were any kind of brother at all, you'd have picked up where your father so obviously failed and taught your sister about her place in this world. She's a willful little thing, and that beating I gave her didn't do near enough good."

Edward ground his teeth but dared not say anything.

"Sit down," James said, his tone almost solicitous. He gestured with the pistol. "We may as well get comfortable."

_**~0~**_

Another hour, maybe more, went by when a distinct wail of terrible pain reached their ears.

Edward threaded his hands back into his hair, grabbing fistfuls and yanking as his shoulders slumped. It was perfect torture, and James's maddening chuckle revealed just how much he was reveling in causing Edward so much pain.

He'd tried bargaining, but at that point, there was nothing James wanted as much as to see Edward Cullen suffering.

He was getting his wish.

"I'll give you this much: she doesn't carry on as much as Victoria did," James said conversationally.

His ongoing conversation was just another part of the torture and very effective as well. Edward was near enough to ripping his own ears off so he wouldn't have to hear the man's almost pleasant tone. He hadn't so much as raised his voice as he berated Edward's parents for raising children who were so obviously vile. He called Edward a coward and insinuated his wife was no more than a Southern whore.

Edward had no choice but to take it.

He'd never felt so helpless in his life, had never felt an anger so powerful he felt as though the entire house might burst into flames with the strength of the heat the roiled off his skin in waves.

And holy God, he was so very frightened. He was terrified he would never get to hold his wife in his arms again.

Outside the windows, the blackest part of night was falling.

"I never had patience for the weeping of women," James said. "I wasn't there when Bree was born, thank God, but when Riley came, I thought it was the best time to go hunting." He laughed.

Edward looked up to cast yet another impotent glare in James's direction, when something caught his eye.

Alice was creeping down the stairs quietly, one by one, his pistol in her hand. It was cocked.

Edward's heart sped to a gallop. He wondered if there was any way to signal to his sister that she should find a way to get the gun to him. Did Alice even know how to shoot the thing?

Well, she'd obviously known enough to load it.

His heart leapt into his throat when the stairs creaked in protest just as she got to the bottom, and James turned his head. Alice only barely hid the pistol behind her back in time.

She cleared her throat. "Mother needs more hot water."

James grunted. "Hurry up, then."

When he turned back to Edward, Alice's expression became one so fierce, Edward was startled. She raised the pistol.

The shot caught James right through the neck, the kickback sending Alice flying back onto her rear end. There was a bloom of blood, and James clapped his hand over his throat. The wet sounds of his gagging immediately filled the room.

Edward saw fury replace surprise in James's eyes, and he raised his pistol. But Edward was quicker. He flew forward, grabbing James's arm and twisting with all the anger of the last horrible hours of his life. The crack of his bone snapping was audible, and his scream muffled by the blood filling his mouth. His pistol dropped to the floor with a loud clatter, and James fell to his knees with it.

"Give the devil my regards," Edward snarled and punched the blond man square in the face.

Kicking the gun across the room, Edward didn't wait to hear James's final, gagging breath. Now that his body was in motion, he couldn't stop, not until he was sure his wife was safe.

"Edward? Alice?"

Esme was at the top of the stairs, her hands gripped around the banister, her face ashen.

"We're fine, Mother. Please. Go back to Bella!" Edward called, kneeling at his sister's side.

Alice was bone pale, her eyes stuck on body in the sitting room. "Oh God. Oh God," she chanted under her breath.

"Alice?" Edward caught her face between his hands, trying to be gentle despite the adrenaline that made him feel powerful enough to uproot trees. "Alice, I need you to calm down. Calm down, little sister. It's fine. You did the right thing, I promise you. Look at me. Look at me!"

She did finally, blinking as if coming out of a trance.

"Please. I need you to get back to Bella. I need to find the doctor. Can you do that? Please?"

Another scream from upstairs, and Edward felt a sob rise. He ached to go to her, he ached to make it better. But he knew her best bet would be if he could find the doctor, and there was no time left to waste.

Alice swallowed hard and nodded. "Go." Her voice was barely a whisper.

Edward flew out into the night, running toward the stables as fast as his legs could carry him.

_**~0~**_

Dr. Gerandy had slammed the door in his face.

Edward had exactly one glimpse of his wife - good God, she looked so tiny and utterly exhausted and as pale as death itself - before Dr. Gerandy shoved him out the door and slammed the door in his face.

No matter that Edward had pounded, the doctor could not be swayed.

So Edward sunk to his knees, his hands splayed flat against the door. There were a great many things he could have been doing, given that there was a body lying in a wide pool of blood in his sitting room, but he found himself utterly unable to move.

As it was, he could hardly breathe.

"Push, Mrs. Cullen," he heard the doctor order.

"Bella, dear." His mother's voice was so gentle but urgent. "I know you're tired. It's almost over. Baby Charles is almost here. Push."

It frightened Edward to no end that Bella wasn't even trying to hold back her anguish anymore. She cried out, the sound long and low, and Edward thought for sure he could feel a piece of his soul curdle and die inside him.

It wasn't supposed to be this way, none of this should have happened. Not like this.

Emmett had promised he would be there. He'd promised to get Edward shout at the moon drunk. Jasper had said he'd help. Bella would have the doctor with her through the whole process, and more women than just his mother and sister to help her. Rosalie would have helped, would have talked her through the worst of the pains.

"I can't live without her," Edward whispered to whatever Gods might be listening. "Please. I can't."

"That's it. One more push, Mrs. Cullen," the doctor said.

Bella gave a final cry and then the night was, for the first time, still.

Edward couldn't breathe.

When he heard a loud, furious wail - the unmistakable sound of a newborn being thrust into the world - he gasped. His breaths came fast and furious, his heart hammering against his chest, but as the baby continued to cry, he couldn't help his smile.

He was a father. Good God, he was a father.

Perhaps a minute passed before the door opened just a crack. His mother looked very tired but her eyes were shining. "It's a girl," she said softly. "She's perfect."

"A girl," he repeated with reverence, a feeling of awe unlike any he'd ever known filling him. He stood on trembling legs, having to brace his hand against the wall to hold himself up. "And Bella?" he asked desperately.

But he could hear her. He could hear her soft weeping - not of sorrow, but of joy.

"Edward, they're going to be fine. Sit before you fall, and I will bring you your daughter when she's clean."

The door closed again, and Edward stumbled backward, crumbling into the chair that sat in the hallway. He didn't realize how badly he was shaking before he put his hands to his eyes, unable to control the torrent of tears that hit him with the force of a gale-wind storm.

How close had he come to losing everything?

How close had he come to not living to see his child born?

By the time the door opened again, the worst of his tears had subsided. He felt somewhat foolish, weeping like a little girl, but his embarrassment was swept away like dust in the wind when his eyes fell on the swaddled bundle in Esme's arms.

Again, Edward couldn't breathe. His body was rigid, his eyes riveted as his mother brought his daughter closer.

The bundle fussed, and Esme shushed her quietly. "Hush, hush, little one. Come meet your Papa."

_Papa._

The word made Edward feel like he was flying.

Carefully, Esme placed the baby in his arms, and Edward looked at his daughter for the first time.

Pink shell lips, cloudy blue eyes. She was unbearably exquisite despite the angry red tint of her skin, fresh from birth, and the wrinkle of the womb. Edward was instantly breathless and endlessly, utterly in love. "Hello, little girl," he whispered, rocking her slightly. "Hello, my precious little love."

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><p><strong>AN: So you got another chapter out of me. *dramatic sigh***

**Many thanks to shug for beta and to baburella and jfka06 for making my docs… a hilarious place to be.**

**I am participating in a pledge-a-thon. For $5 you can receive a private outtake from me. I'll also be doing a live chat/interview on June 30. It's for a great cause and I'm quite proud to be a part of it. Find out more here: bit . ly/ptblkris**


	24. Long Live the Queen

**A/N: Phew. We made it!**

**This is the last chapter, but there will be an epilogue. It will likely be short.**

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><p>Edward had to remind himself he had much to be grateful for. He should not complain about what was, in reality, a minor inconvenience.<p>

He'd had exactly five minutes to sit with Bella. She was exhausted, and occasionally winced in pain, but she was glowing. The sight of his wife cradling their newborn daughter in her arms, her sweat-damped hair flowing loose all around her and her face alight with happiness was possibly the most beautiful sight his eyes had ever beheld.

Over their baby's head, she covered his face in kisses, crying because she'd been terrified for him. Of course. She'd just given birth to a breech baby, and it was him she was concerned for.

He kissed her forehead, kissed his daughter, and declared himself the luckiest man alive before a scream from downstairs interrupted their reunion. A few of the servants who arrived earliest had come in to find James's body.

Since then, there had been no shortage of people trying to get on his last nerve.

Latest was Robert Banner's son, Eli. The man, a police officer, was doing his level best to trap Edward into admitting some sort of involvement or premeditation in James's death.

Suffice to say, James wasn't alone in finding Edward's choices disgusting. Edward didn't mind that certain members of his class looked down their nose at him. He did mind when they let that disdain cloud their judgment, endeavoring to separate him - or Alice - from his family.

"Eli Banner, that's quite enough." Doctor Gerandy, who had been checking Alice over again to ensure her concussion was not worsening, shook his head in Banner's direction. "This man's father brought you into this world, saving your mother in the process. You owe him a degree of respect for that if nothing else."

"Be that as it may, Doctor, if he's committed a crime-"

"Oh, for goddsakes, boy. Look at this poor girl's face," the doctor said, gesturing at Alice who ducked her head. "Do you think she did this to herself? Mr. Hunter was found here in Mr. Cullen's house. What is it you think? While his wife labored away without the benefit of a doctor through a breech birth Mr. Cullen was what? Luring Mr. Hunter here to shoot him through the neck? And for what reason? Mr. Hunter had motive.

"So enough with your witch hunt. Mr. Cullen's daughter doesn't even have a name yet, for pity's sake. Let this family be." The doctor huffed and turned back to Alice, shaking his head.

Edward had to stop himself from bursting into applause. Dr. Gerandy was quickly becoming his hero. The only measure of comfort he'd had in more than an hour was the doctor's assurance that Bella and the baby were both sleeping peacefully. It soothed his itch to be at their side, albeit only slightly. Between delivering his daughter safely and now defending him to the officer, Edward was ready to nominate the man for sainthood.

Before another word could be spoken, the front door came open. Edward hoped it might be the undertaker come to be bear the body away so he would not have to look at it and his mother could be released from where she'd been sequestered upstairs.

"Let me by! That's my family!"

Edward was never so relieved to hear his elder brother's voice. He looked up to see Emmett brush by the police guard, followed closely by a frantic looking Jasper.

"Alice?" Jasper asked. He raced to her side, dropping to his knees in front of her, his hands gingerly touching her battered face. "Sweet Christ. What happened to you?" Taking her hands, he brought them to his lips, kissing them fervently. "I was so scared you were dead."

"Me? No. No, not me," Alice said, her tone incredulous.

"We came as soon as we heard. Rumors are rampant. One person's truth is different than another's," Emmett said, his eyes darting around, still frantic. "Where's Mother? And Bella?"

"Both upstairs," Edward said quickly. A smile spread over his face before he could stop it. "With my daughter."

Emmett and Jasper both first looked shocked, then pleased.

Distinctly uncomfortable, Banner stood then. He didn't look happy, but he nodded in Edward's direction. "You'll be available if you're needed." It was an order, not a question.

Edward bristled but worked hard to answer without snapping. "Of course," he agreed.

"What was that about?" Emmett asked when Banner was gone.

"James Hunter is dead," Edward said quietly.

"Is he the one who did this?" Jasper asked, his fingers again skimming Alice's cheek tenderly. The doctor was glaring, but if he noticed, Jasper was ignoring it.

"He did," Edward confirmed and quickly recounted a truncated version of what had happened.

"Chin up, Mr. Whitlock," the doctor interjected when Edward had finished his tale and Jasper looked stricken. "Your young lady will be quite alright. Her ribs are bruised, but not broken, I believe." He patted Alice's hand. "I'll be by to check on you and Mrs. Cullen very soon, my dear."

Gerandy stood, looking to Edward. "Mr. Cullen?"

Edward pushed up off the couch, nodding at another officer who brought the undertaker by as he and the doctor found a private place to talk.

"Your wife is doing well," the doctor said with a smile. "It concerns me though, that you haven't had time to bring the wet nurse, so-"

"Doctor." Edward held his hand up to stop the doctor's speech. "Would it be ill-advised to her health to nurse the baby herself?"

Gerandy made a face before he could help it, the expression one of disgust.

"I know you find it distasteful, but it's what Bella wants. Right now, I will give my wife whatever she wants. I'm sure you understand that," Edward said quickly before he could be lectured.

The doctor's white moustache twitched, but he nodded. "I'm not sure I do understand, Mr. Cullen. If it was my wife..." He cleared his throat. "But no, it would do no harm to her physically to nurse the child."

"And you're sure. They're both well?" Edward asked, suddenly anxious.

This brought back the doctor's smile. "Both your wife and baby are very strong and healthy. Rest easy, son. Now that your brother is here, perhaps leave him to run the house for a moment and you may go see for yourself."

Gerandy put his hand on Edward's shoulder. "I hope I don't overstep my place. Your father isn't here, but I feel that I should tell you. He would have been very proud of you today - you and your sister."

Edward let out a long, slow breath. He hadn't realized until that moment how desperately he craved a father's approval. He was running on fumes at that point, having been awake for too long without sleeping. He was riddled with guilt because it was his fault James has targeted his family, and still so terrified, it was all he could do to keep his trembling at bay.

The doctor repeated his promise that he would be there in the morning and was gone.

Now that the idea had been put in his head, Edward could no longer stave off his desire to be back at Bella's side, to hold his daughter in his arms again. He moved quickly back into the house.

To his surprise, he found Emmett and Jasper on either side of Alice. His little sister was sobbing inconsolably as James's covered body was borne out of the house.

When he got close enough, he could hear what she babbled under her breath. "I've done murder. I've done murder. Oh God."

"Alice," he said, kneeling in front of her. He put his hands on her knees, squeezing gently. "It's fine."

"It's not fine!" she cried and winced. She had to be in pain, the way she was gasping for breath.

He grabbed her hands, pulling them down away from her face. "You did the right thing, little sister."

"How?" she demanded. "If I had not told James Bella's time had come, he-"

"He was hurting you to get to me. He gave you no choice, Alice." Edward breathed deep, reminding himself that the bastard was dead and would not hurt his family ever again.

"Edward's right," Emmett said, bumping her shoulder gently. "Really, Ally girl. I've never been prouder to be your big brother."

"You saved Bella's life. And my daughter's," Edward said fervently. "Honestly, you saved all our lives. You think James would have let us live after what he'd done?"

Alice's smile was small, but present. She sniffled. "It still feels terrible, what I've done."

"Sweet girl," Jasper whispered, brushing her cheek. "It never feels right to take a life, not unless you're a monster, as James so obviously was. But he left you no choice."

Emmett and Edward exchanged a glance as Alice rested her head on Jasper's shoulder. The blond man didn't look up for their approval, but wrapped his arms around her carefully, gently.

It was clear that Jasper would give her everything she needed regardless of the consequences.

Emmett's expression was grudging, but Edward knew he'd arrived at the same conclusion: Jasper would be a good husband to Alice. When Jasper came again to ask for her hand, Edward knew he would say yes without hesitation or misgiving.

He pushed that thought to the back of his mind, standing. "Emmett?"

His brother cocked his head.

"I'm sorry to ask this of you, but I haven't seen Bella or my daughter for hours now, and-"

Emmett waved his good arm. "Go. Of course. We'll be fine here." His customary grin appeared for the first time that morning. "Bring my niece down when you can. I'd like to meet her."

Edward couldn't help his smile. "She is the most beautiful baby in the world."

"I'm sure you're not biased at all." His brother laughed, the booming sound almost unnatural - but so welcome - given the chaos around them. "You should see yourself, brother. You're puffed up like a peacock."

Above them, the baby started to wail, and Emmett laughed again. "Obviously, Daddy's been gone too long. Go on then, and give Bella our congratulations."

"And congratulations to you, my friend," Jasper added, his smile genuine as he rested his head on top of Alice's.

Edward took the stairs two at a time.

Just as he reached the master bedroom, his mother was coming out. She looked tired and wary, but there was a smile tugging at her lips. When she saw him, she wrapped him in a tight hug.

"My boy. I've been worried. What's going on down there? Is Alice-"

"Everything is fine. There are still officers downstairs and newsmen on the lawn, but we're all fine," he assured his mother. "Emmett is here. There is blood in the sitting room," he said slowly, watching to make sure his mother wasn't upset by his words. "But the body is gone, if you'd like to go downstairs."

Esme's smile was tight. "That man threatened my family. Perhaps it is unchristian of me, but I'm glad he's dead." Pushing up onto her tiptoes, she kissed his forehead as she had when he was a little boy. "Go. Your family is waiting."

His family.

Edward's heart began to pound hard against his chest as he pushed the door open. For a horrible moment, he was terrified they wouldn't be there, that he was dreaming and he really had lost everything.

But he was greeted by the sweet sight of his beautiful wife holding their daughter to her breast.

"Edward!" The look on Bella's face brightened when she saw him. "Thank God. Please come here to me," she entreated, holding her free hand out.

Pushing the door closed and locking it, Edward was never happier to comply with his wife's request. He crossed to her and sat beside her carefully, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and burying his nose at her neck.

He breathed her in once, twice, assuring himself that this was no dream.

"I've been so worried," she murmured against the top of his head. "I was so worried when I woke and it had been hours and you weren't here."

"I'm so sorry," he said raising his head. "But I'm here now." He kissed the side of her hair tenderly.

"Will you tell me what's happening?"

"Please don't be concerned. We're all fine, and that's what matters now. Emmett, Jasper, and Mother are with Alice."

He was distracted by a grunt and smiled as he looked down at his daughter, watching her suckle, her tiny hands flailing randomly against Bella's skin.

"I want to forget about all that for a moment," he said quietly, catching the baby's hand with a finger. She squeezed instinctively, and Edward's breath caught in his throat. "She's so completely perfect, Bella."

"She is," Bella agreed.

The baby's eyes were drooping even as she nursed.

"Tell me what I missed," Edward begged.

Bella glanced at him, her tired expression amused. "You were not gone so terribly long."

"All the same. Tell me."

The baby came away from Bella's nipple with a little pop, wriggling a little toward her mother's warmth. Bella shifted her carefully, pulling up the nightgown she'd shrugged down her shoulder.

"Some people say that new babies have no personality, but I don't think that's so," she began quietly. "Perhaps it's silly to say as her eyes aren't focused, but there is something very regal in the way she looks at you."

"Regal, hmm?" Edward stroked his daughter's cheek reverently, awed by the softness under his finger. "She does need a name. Perhaps a name fit for a queen, then?"

"A queen's name," Bella repeated. "I do like that."

"Margaret? Anne? Elizabeth?"

Bella hummed, but didn't comment on those specifically.

"Mary?" he tried. "Eleanor?"

At this last name, the tiny girl hiccuped wetly, a small bit of off-white liquid suddenly appearing on her lips, dribbling down her chin. Edward was startled, but Bella just shushed the baby's sudden whimpers, cleaning her with a soft cloth and rocking her. She settled quickly enough, falling back to sleep.

The tenderness he felt for his wife just then was almost too much for his heart to handle. He loved her. By God, he loved her more than he knew how to explain. Seeing her with their child did things to him he could not yet define.

Bella looked to him and smiled wryly. "I think she likes Eleanor."

"Are you an Eleanor, little love?" Edward whispered to the sleeping baby.

"Eleanor Frances?" Bella asked.

"Why Frances?"

"No reason, really. It's just pretty."

"A pretty name for my beautiful girl," Edward murmured. "Welcome to the world, Miss Eleanor Frances Cullen. Such as it is."

Minutes passed, and Edward could not tear his eyes from his daughter except to press the occasional kiss to Bella's hair.

"Emmett and Jasper want to meet Ellie," he murmured. As he truly began to accept that his family was there in his arms and in no immediate danger, tiredness began to overtake the adrenaline that had been his only energy for hours.

"She is sleeping," Bella mumbled. "And you look ready to fall over as well. Put her in her cradle, and come sleep with me."

Edward was more than happy to comply. Unwinding his arms from around Bella, he stood and went to her side of the bed. She pressed a soft, adoring kiss to Eleanor's forehead before she passed her carefully into his arms.

For a moment, Edward held the child, taking in her slight weight in his arms and the way her baby heat radiated against his skin. He could never have imagined what a joy it was to be a father.

A memory tugged at his consciousness: James wrinkling his nose as if he found being a father to a daughter distasteful.

Quickly, Edward shut any thought of James out of his head. The man was a fool. Edward was not. He was nothing but ecstatic to hold his little girl in his arms. She would always know she was treasured and adored by her father. Always.

"I promise," he whispered to her, bringing her close for a kiss before he settled her in the cradle by the bed.

When he was sure the baby would stay asleep, he lay down beside Bella, wrapping her in his arms. They lay on their sides, her back against his chest, watching their daughter take even breaths. Their fingers were tangled together.

For long, quiet minutes, Edward marveled.

He had seen the worst of the world: war, death, and the evil that lay in the hearts of some men. And yet, for all the challenges, all the twists, all the darkness, the world could be such a fantastically beautiful place.

There was this woman he held in his arms. Once, when they were children, he hadn't dared to think this day should come to pass. How could it, when they were so different, when the world endeavored to keep them on different sides of a chasm too wide to cross?

But here she was, filling his days with her bright spirit, her beautiful smile, and her quiet strength. More, the gift she'd given him, the beautiful child of their bodies and hearts, was a miracle he thought, in the worst times of war, he'd never live to see.

There was so much left to do, so many challenges yet to be faced, but right then, holding Bella close to him, watching his newborn daughter sleep away the first day of her life, all was right in Edward's world, and he would face tomorrow with his family by his side.

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><p><strong>AN: Thank you to GinnyW for beta work and barburella. This baby was named by jfka06 for two of my most favorite people.**

****I am participating in a pledge-a-thon to raise money for schools. For $5 you can receive a private outtake from me. I'll also be doing a live chat/interview on June 30. It's for a great cause and I'm quite proud to be a part of it. Find out more here: bit . ly/ptblkris****


	25. Epilogue: White Wedding

**A/N: And so it goes.**

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><p>Edward heard the women's laughter and paused before he knocked on the door, simply listening. Alice sounded jovial, which was a good emotion given the circumstances.<p>

Today he would give his little sister away to another man.

As the eldest brother, it was Emmett's right to walk Alice down the aisle, but as with everything else, he had deferred to Edward. In any event, Edward and Alice had grown even closer in the eighteen months since James had attacked their family. Emmett said it was only right. It was Edward who'd cared and provided for her since he'd returned from Texas, and Edward who Jasper sought out to ask for Alice's hand.

It had been an interesting eighteen months.

As Edward suspected, though Jasper had made his share of mistakes, he'd hit the ground running. From their time at West Point, Edward knew Jasper was a natural leader. He had a charisma that made men want to follow him. There had been a great deal of enmity to overcome with some of the ex-Union soldiers who bristled at taking orders from an ex-Confederate.

In the end, though, Jasper rallied. The newspaper was running like a well oiled machine - or rather like a well led Army regiment. He earned every penny he was paid, and it was more than enough to provide amply for his son, Alice, and the family they would doubtless have together.

Edward, always prone to second guessing himself, frequently tried to put himself in his father's shoes. Would Carlisle have approved of Jasper for his only daughter?

But then, Carlisle would have appreciated the way that he took care of his little boy. Many widowers would have foisted their children off, either marrying as quickly as possible or leaving the little ones with relatives. True, Jasper had given Peter over to Edward and Bella for a time, but he'd never forgotten or ignored the child.

Carlisle would have done anything for his children. For Peter - and for Alice - Jasper struggled to fit in with a society he had not been raised a part of. He was a good man, a good father, and most important, he made Alice very happy.

Edward thought Carlisle would have loved his soon to be son-in-law well.

As promised, when the year marker came and went and his newspaper business was flourishing, and when Jasper asked for Alice's hand, Edward consented. To seal the deal, he'd signed over the property Carlisle had set aside for Alice over to Jasper, and the women had set about planning what would doubtlessly be the society wedding of the year if not the century.

Much of society continued to look down their nose, talking behind closed doors about the Cullens and their odd, unappealing proclivities. Yet here they all were with very few exception, their faces eager. Of course. Esme Cullen and Alice Whitlock nee Cullen were well known for throwing the best parties in Chicago.

Edward had no patience for hypocrites, but he would do anything to see his sister happy. So he smiled widely and shook hands, greeting each of his guests politely while his sister, wife, and mother readied upstairs.

But now the time was upon them. The guests were seated, and Jasper was ready for his bride.

Edward knocked on the door. There was a flurry of noise and activity before it opened a crack, and he was met with his mother's already red eyes. She'd been crying all day no doubt, but she was smiling. Happy.

"You look lovely, Mother," he said sincerely, bending to kiss her cheek.

"Papa!" Hearing his voice, Eleanor gave a delighted squeal and wrestled herself out in front of her grandmother. She lifted her arms, her bright green eyes dancing.

Grinning at his baby girl, Edward lifted her up. "Well, look at you. You look just like a little Princess. When did you get so pretty, Ellie?"

Eleanor giggled as he peppered kisses to her cheeks.

"It's time, then?" Esme asked, bringing Edward back to the matter at hand. She reached for the baby as she spoke.

"That's what they tell me," Edward said easily, transferring his daughter to his mother's arms. "Is Alice ready?"

"Come see for yourself."

She opened the door wider to let him in.

Edward's eyes fell not on his sister but his wife who sat by her side. Bella was smiling at her sister-in-law, but broke off their conversation when he stepped in the room. Her smile widened, the gentle expression in her eyes just for him. She was heartbreakingly, breathtakingly beautiful with her hair curled and swept up into an elegant style, a sapphire pendant setting off the graceful curve of her neck.

"What did I tell you?" His sister's voice snapped Edward out of his reverie. "He has eyes for no one but you. How very predictable, brother mine."

Edward shifted his gaze to his sister, hoping he looked appropriately abashed. "I apologize, Alice. Come. Stand. Let me appreciate you in full."

Alice rolled her eyes but stood, taking the hand he offered and spinning for him.

Her dress was long and lovely, her hair perfectly coiffed, but far and away the most stunning accessory to her wedding ensemble was Alice's content grin. flushed cheeks, and the twinkle in her eye. She was happy. Her happiness radiated off her in waves.

"Stunning, Alice. Truly," he said softly, clasping her hand. "Jasper is a lucky man."

Rosalie, who had been sitting at her other side, stood, helping her fasten a strand of pearls. "There now. She's ready."

"Are you ready, sister?" Edward verified.

"More than ready," Alice replied, her tone fervent. She didn't look at all nervous, but serene with her choice, her life.

Esme stepped to her daughter's side, her tears spilling over, and Edward stepped back, taking Bella's hand instead to give his mother space. Putting her free hand against her daughter's cheek, her voice trembled as she spoke. "My precious girl. I'm so happy for you. Oh, if your father could see you now."

Alice wrapped her arms around her mother, holding tight. "Papa can see me. He can see all of us. I'm sure of it."

Stepping back, Esme laughed when Eleanor wiped her wet cheeks, her miniature expression hilariously concerned. "Well. I'll take my seat then."

Giving Alice's hand one last squeeze, Esme took her leave.

For a moment, Edward let his hand linger on Bella's back, as he kissed her cheek. Then he offered his sister his arm. "Shall we?"

Alice grinned at him, slipping her arm through his. "We shall."

_**~0~**_

"Good gracious, child. Hold still," Bella admonished, trying to keep the squirming toddler firm on her lap long enough for the photographer to snap a picture.

Eleanor whined. She had been patient. She'd patiently sat through the first photos of the whole family. Now she wanted down off her mother's lap so she could return to her favorite past time: following her elder cousins, Peter and Charlotte, around.

Edward chuckled. "You know, little one, when I was young, photographs took many minutes. You're lucky. If you hold still for just a few seconds, there will be cake."

The little girl's eyes brightened at the word cake. She sighed, imitating Bella's wary expression, and settled back against her mother's chest looking impatient.

As promised, just a few seconds later Eleanor was up and running as fast as her uncoordinated legs could take her across the lawn to where her cousins played.

Laughing lightly, Bella sank down onto a sofa on the porch. Having no particular want to return to his guests, Edward was content to sit beside her and he put his arm around her shoulders, holding her close. In any event, Emmett, Esme, and Rosalie were making the rounds well enough for all of them.

"Do you regret not having a wedding like this?" Edward asked quietly, remembering their own tiny wedding en route to Chicago from Houston.

Bella looked up at him, her expression bemused but gentle. "Alice is glad to be the center of attention. I was just glad to be yours."

Edward tilted his head, letting his lips linger against her forehead, wishing they were not in polite company so he could go further. His passion for the woman at his side had only grown with every passing day. "As I am yours," he murmured softly.

They stayed this way for a time, simply watching the goings on around them, thankfully undisturbed.

Edward's eyes strayed to Emmett who spoke animatedly with Jacob Black. He remembered when his contemporaries had been shocked to see the Native American man invited to the Cullens' dinners and parties. They weren't so surprised anymore, and some had gone as far as to form tentative associations with the young man. It gave Edward hope that his city, his country, could change, one person at a time.

To that effect, though his principles had nearly cost him his life, if not those of his family, Edward had continued in whatever small crusade he was on. His newspaper still sought the truth behind even the most outwardly respectable men of power, his store was still open to any who had money to buy, and the buildings he owned were made affordable so the lower classes of the city had adequate homes.

He did what he could. He knew he couldn't change the world.

As long as his family was proud of him, Edward withstood the occasional glower and the condescension of some of his peers.

Slowly, though, supporters were coming out of the woodwork. Edward had high hopes that in some years, it would be enough that Emmett could fulfil his dream: to have a law practice of his own that would provide affordable legal service to all those who might need of it. Of course, it was not an endeavor he could hope to take on alone, and so the more friends he had, the more likely it would eventually come to pass.

Edward was distracted by a child's wail and looked quickly over to where the children had been playing. He was somewhat relieved to see that first it was not his daughter who was crying and second that Peter was fine, just startled by his tumble.

As he watched, Peter called for Alice and buried his teary face in the side of her dress as he clung to her. Alice stroked his hair comfortingly.

Beside him, Bella let out a soft sigh. There was a wistful expression on her face as she watched Alice with Peter.

Edward stroked her cheek to get her attention. "I know you once looked on Peter as dear to you as your own child. Is it difficult for you to give up that place in his life?"

She hummed in thought, her eyes again on the pair, watching Alice wipe away the last of his tears before she sent him back to the other children. "At times," she admitted quietly. "You know Eleanor is precious to me. I love her more than my own life. But Peter was the first child of my heart, if not my body."

Edward said nothing but tightened his arm around her, hoping to comfort even this minor ache.

"It is Alice's rightful place, though," Bella continued. She hesitated, but took his hand and put it flat against her belly. "And perhaps, come next summer, we will have a boy of our own."

For a handful of seconds, Edward couldn't breathe. At first he was confused, Bella's words and actions seeming nonsensical. Then, when he thought he understood what she was telling him, his heart seized in his chest for too many long seconds before it started beating in triple time. His face felt suddenly cold, clammy.

"Oh, Bella," he breathed.

Her expression was slightly horrified. "You're unhappy," she realized out loud.

"No," he said quickly, knowing he had to calm his reaction. "No, I'm not unhappy."

And he wasn't. The idea that he'd made her pregnant again made him unbearably proud. What he wanted more than anything was to shout this news to all the gathered guests, appropriateness be damned.

Still, he couldn't help that his thoughts were inundated with what had been and what could have been. He still remembered the glimpse he'd gotten: Bella pale as death and exhausted after struggling nearly a whole day to bring their child to birth. And in the last eighteen months, his nightmares had been plagued not only by the horrors of war, but James Hunter's cold eyes as he stood over his wife's still, lifeless body.

"You're scared," Bella said aloud, reading his expression as easily as if he'd spoken out loud.

Edward said nothing but brought her hands to his lips, kissing her skin. It escaped neither of them that his own hands trembled.

Carefully, she took her hands from his and brushed the tips of her fingers down his cheek. "I'm fine, Eleanor is fine. There is no one to harm us this time," she reminded him. "Think of it. Ellie would be thrilled to have a little brother to boss around."

The tension in Edward's body loosened minutely. "Ellie is thrilled at the crinkling of newspaper," he said fondly. "She is not difficult to please."

Tentative, he laid his hand over her stomach again, remembering the joy he felt watching his daughter grow inside her. His beautiful baby girl with his father's honey blond hair, her face the same shape and structure as Bella's. As he'd promised her the day she was born, he treasured her always.

Perhaps this child would be their Charles. He imagined a little boy with his own fine features and Bella's hair and eyes.

"Life is meant to be lived, Edward," she said quietly, resting her cheek against his. "I know you worry, but I'm glad to give you another child."

At this, Edward finally smiled. Watching Bella become a mother to their daughter had been one of the greatest joys he'd known.

"You've made me so happy, Bella," he said with a content sigh, allowing his worry to fade and his pride and love to fill those spaces in him. "You redefine my definition of completeness every day."

As he sat with Bella at his side, he looked over at his family one by one. His mother, surrounded by her children and grandchildren, every bit the dignified lady with increasingly silver-streaked hair and an adoring smile for her family. His elder brother and his stunning wife; they'd both overcome such difficulties, always at each others side. His newest brother, his old best friend finally happy and whole and looking like he would never let Alice out of his arms. The children: a fresh generation to give them hope and color their world with laughter.

They were lucky; he was lucky. The world, their country at least, was still shaking from having been very nearly ripped to irrevocably shattered pieces. But here, settled on his porch with his family all around him, Edward knew for sure the Earth would continue to turn. His life would continue to unfold, challenges and triumphs alike ahead of him.

After all, tomorrow was another day.

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><p><strong>AN: You know I couldn't resist. *cackles***

**And so we come to the end of another story. This story would not have been possible without the help of my wonderful girls: barburella, jadedandboring, and jfka06. And my awesome jump in and beta on a whim girls: GinnyW, Plummy, and Shug. And the expertise of viewers like kismit1496. **

**Oh em gee, guys. Also - ange de l'aube made me the most awesometastic banner ever. It's so beautiful. I'm gonna beg barburella to put it up on AO3 if you want a gander at it, until I can figure out where to put my banners so people can oooo and aww over them with me. **

**So thank you for coming along with me on this journey. I had a lot of fun. Thank you for all your kind words. Much. Much. Much love.**


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